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JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
[WRITTEN ON A FLY-LEAF OF HIS POEMS, 1848.]
True-hearted poet, I foresee in theeThe dawning streaks of that long-sunken sunWhich blazed on sturdy England in the timeOf Queen Elizabeth. No mean conceits,No maudlin sorrows in affected rhyme,Cumber thy verse: thine eye of faith is clear,And reads God's goodness in the humblest flowerThat opes its timid eyelid to the dawn.
We need such poets,—earnest, truthful men,As thou art always; men who look on lifeBut as the means to a most glorious end;The stepping-stone to Heaven; the sharp trialThat fits the soul for its high destiny.Like loving sisters, wand'ring hand in hand,Philosophy and Poetry attendAnd wait upon thee, as thou turnest o'erThe voilet's leaves, within whose modest heartThou seest a portion of the pulse which throbsThrough the great frame of nature. Burning words,When, David-like, thou smit'st the ponderous bulkOf some gigantic error, fly like sparksOut from the fiery furnace of thy heart,—Each one a torch wherewith the bright-eyed TruthLights up the caves where Wrong and Falsehood dwell.
