University of Virginia Library


254

TO THE MUSE OF MEASURED VERSE

On the Occasion of Adopting New Forms

O Muse, I said, your tenderest refrain
(Muse of soft lullaby and lispéd rhyme)
Sing for my farewell song, who from this time
Must steer my bark upon a stormier main.
My sail is set. I know not if again
Under your shoreward boughs in Spring's sweet prime
I'll glide, or dream to the soft rippling chime
The calm struck from my keel. Henceforth I strain
My lyre to Life's profounder diapason:
The rhythm of ocean-waves o'erruns my strings—
Of waves which over harbour-wall and bason
The flooding tide inevitably flings;
On whose high crests new-freighted vessels hasten
To music of the wind's tempestuous wings.