Landon in The Literary Gazette 1827/Genius
The Literary Gazette, 19th May 1827, page 317
ORIGINAL POETRY.
GENIUS.
Lines suggested by a View of the Sculpture designed by
Mr. Lough, and described in last week's Literary Gazette.
Glory of earth, and light from heaven,
Young Genius! but for thee,
And the wild wonders to thee given,
How base our earth would be!
Bright halls, where meet the vain and cold,
The idle and the gay,
With feelings cast in one set mould—
Do they redeem our clay?
The mart, where for gold's sordid sake
The trader sears his heart—
Is there aught of the things that make
Our nature's nobler part?
Or in the hind who duly plies
Each day's accustomed beat;
As very dust as that which lies
Unconscious at his feet?
Or in those higher ranks that know
No world of inward thought,
As vapid as their outward show,—
Vanity vainly bought?
And yet this world is animate
With the fine spirit sent,
Vivid as Hope, and strong as Fate,—
Mind's purer element.
Like mountains with one golden vein
Of rich ore running through;
Like that ore asking but the pain
Of being brought to view.
Such is mankind, and such the store
That dwells within his mind;
Or rather, some there are whose ore
Is wealth for half their kind.
Young Sculptor! whose creative hand
Has waked these thoughts in me,
While thine own works around thee stand.
How proud thy soul must be!
The red fire kindling without touch;
The fountain's sudden birth;
So, Genius, dost thou rise, and such
Thy likenesses on earth.
The youth I speak of, is he not
Touch'd with thy fire by thee?
Has not thy guidance cast his lot,
His mind, his destiny?
Strange interest must it be to know
How it within him work'd;
What chance ray caused the leaves to blow.
Whose germs within him lurk’d.
Was it beside some summer stream,
That came that haunted hour
The forms that haunt enthusiast dream,
Of grace and depth and power;
And bade him mould them for his own,
Till both grew half divine?
Young master of the breathing stone,
It recks not,—they are thine!
Art thou not bound to that fair shore
Where art's great wonders be?
What miser's wealth to thee the store
Of classic Italy!
And worship there her gifted band,
Till thou again shalt come,
With practised eye, and perfect hand,
To England, fame, and home.
L. E. L.