INVOCATION TO POESY.
171
If thou art only there to bless
When past life's troubled sea,
E'en the dim shores of forgetfulness
Will not unwelcome be.
When past life's troubled sea,
E'en the dim shores of forgetfulness
Will not unwelcome be.
INVOCATION TO POESY.
He had gazed on the vault of the deep blue sky,
When the midnight planets were hung on high,
And bright and beautiful did they seem,
Like the fairy world of a Poet's dream;
And his soul drank deep in that happy hour,
Bright thoughts' from the sky, the star, the flower.
When the midnight planets were hung on high,
And bright and beautiful did they seem,
Like the fairy world of a Poet's dream;
And his soul drank deep in that happy hour,
Bright thoughts' from the sky, the star, the flower.
He had looked on the violet's robe of blue,
He had seen the rose with its silver dew,
And the pearls that lay in the hare-bell's cup
When the leaves of the lily were folded up,
And the tender gaze and the silent mirth,
Looked bright from the blossoming things of earth.
He had seen the rose with its silver dew,
And the pearls that lay in the hare-bell's cup
When the leaves of the lily were folded up,
And the tender gaze and the silent mirth,
Looked bright from the blossoming things of earth.
He heard a voice from the dark green leaf,
'Twas low, but it was not a sound of grief;
And he heard a sigh on the passing breeze,
And the wailing moan of the distant seas,
And they came in the smile of the moonlit wave—
In the solemn thoughts of the silent grave.
'Twas low, but it was not a sound of grief;
And he heard a sigh on the passing breeze,
And the wailing moan of the distant seas,
And they came in the smile of the moonlit wave—
In the solemn thoughts of the silent grave.
