Not Man, the sullen savage in his den; But Man called forth in fellowship with men; Schooled and trained up to Wisdom from his birth; God's noblest work-His image upon earth! The hour arrives, the moment wished and feared; The child is born, by many a pang endeared. And now the mother's ear has caught his cry; Oh grant the cherub to her asking eye! He comes...she clasps him. To her bosom pressed, He drinks the balm of life, and drops to rest. Her by her smile how soon the Stranger knows; How soon by his the glad discovery shows! As to her lips she lifts the lovely boy, What answering looks of sympathy and joy! He walks, he speaks. In many a broken word His wants, his wishes, and his griefs are heard. And ever, ever to her lap he flies, When rosy Sleep comes on with sweet surprise. But soon a nobler task demands her care. Flings off the coat so long his pride and pleasure, And, like a miser digging for his treasure, His tiny spade in his own garden plies, Would cloud the sunshine of his little day! Thoughtful by fits, he scans and he reveres He thirsts for knowledge, speaks but to inquire; Like Her most gentle, most unfortunate, And all in green array were chasing down the sun! Then is the Age of Admiration-Then Gods walk the earth, or beings more than men ; Who breathe the soul of Inspiration round, Whose very shadows consecrate the ground! Ah, then comes thronging many a wild desire, And high imagining and thought of fire! Then from within a voice exclaims "Aspire!" Phantoms, that upward point, before him pass, As in the Cave athwart the Wizard's glass; They, that on Youth a grace, a lustre shed, Of every Age-the living and the dead! Thou, all-accomplished SURREY, thou art known; The flower of Knighthood, nipt as soon as blown! Melting all hearts but Geraldine's alone! And, with his beaver up, discovering there One who loved less to conquer than to spare, Lo, the Black Warrior, he, who, battle-spent, Bare-headed served the Captive in his tent! Young B in the groves of Academe, Or where Ilyssus winds his whispering stream; Or where the wild bees swarm with ceaseless hum, Dreaming old dreams-a joy for years to come; Or on the Rock within the sacred Fane;Scenes such as MILTON sought, but sought in vain: * } * He had arrived at Naples; and was preparing to visit Sicily and Greece, when, hearing of the troubles in England, he thought it proper to hasten home. L |