Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/Sorrow and Song

Sorrow and Song.

Weep not over poet's wrong, Mourn not his mischances,Sorrow is the source of song, And of gentle fancies.

Rills o'er rocky beds are borne, Ere they gush in whiteness;Pebbles are wave-chafed and worn, Ere they show their brightness.

Sweetest gleam the morning flowers, When in tears they waken;Earth enjoys refreshing showers, When the boughs are shaken.

Ceylon's glistening pearls are sought In its deepest waters;From the darkest mines are brought Gems for Beauty's daughters.

Through the rent and shivered rock Limpid water breaketh;'Tis but when the chords are struck That their music waketh.

Flowers by heedless footsteps pressed All their sweets surrender;Gold must brook the fiery test Ere it show its splendour.

When the twilight, cold and damp, Gloom and silence bringeth;Then the glowworm lights its lamp, And the night-bird singeth.

Stars come forth when Night her shroud Draws as daylight fainteth;Only on the tearful cloud God his rainbow painteth.

Weep not then for poet's wrong, Mourn not his mischances;Sorrow is the source of song And of gentle fancies.