stream;
Sometimes, a second's space, their ear
The murmur of its waves doth hear. 180
That transient glimpse in song they say,
But not of painter can pourtray--
That transient sound in song they tell,
But not, as the musician, well.
And when at last their snatches cease, 185
And they are silent and at peace,
The stream of life's majestic whole
Hath ne'er been mirror'd on their soul.
"Only a few the life-stream's shore
With safe unwandering feet explore; 190
Untired its movement bright attend,
Follow its windings to the end.
Then from its brimming waves their eye
Drinks up delighted ecstasy,
And its deep-toned, melodious voice 195
For ever makes their ear rejoice.
They speak! the happiness divine
They feel, runs o'er in every line;
Its spell is round them like a shower--
It gives them pathos, gives them power. 200
No painter yet hath such a way,
Nor no musician made, as they,
And gather'd on immortal knolls
Such lovely flowers for cheering souls.
Beethoven, Raphael, cannot reach 205
The charm which Homer, Shakespeare, teach.
To these, to these, their thankful race
Gives, then, the first, the fairest place;
And brightest is their glory's sheen,
For greatest hath their labour been. deg." deg.210
SONNETS
QUIET WORK deg.
One lesson, deg. Nature, let me learn of thee, deg.1
One lesson which in every wind is blown,
One lesson of two duties kept at one
Though the loud deg. world proclaim their enmity-- deg.4
Of toil unsever'd from tranquillity! 5
Of labour, that in lasting fruit outgrows
Far noisier deg. schemes, accomplish'd in repose, deg.7
Too great for haste, too high for rivalry!
Yes, while on earth a thousand discords ring,
Man's fitful uproar mingling with his toil, 10
Still do thy sleepless ministers move on,
Their glorious tasks in silence perfecting;
Still working, blaming still our vain turmoil,
Labourers that shall not fail, when man is gone.
SHAKESPEARE deg.
Others abide our question. Thou art free.
We ask and ask--Thou smilest and art still,
Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest hill,
Who to the s
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