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A VISION OF POETS.
The poet—who with spirit-kiss
Familiar, had long claimed for his
Whatever earthly beauty is,
Familiar, had long claimed for his
Whatever earthly beauty is,
Who also in his spirit bore
A Beauty passing the earth's store,
Walked calmly onward evermore.
A Beauty passing the earth's store,
Walked calmly onward evermore.
His aimless thoughts in metre went,
Like a babe's hand, without intent,
Drawn down a seven-stringed instrument.
Like a babe's hand, without intent,
Drawn down a seven-stringed instrument.
Nor jarred it with his mood when as,
With a faint stirring down the grass,
An apparition fair did pass.
With a faint stirring down the grass,
An apparition fair did pass.
He might have feared another time,
But all things fair and strange did chime
With his thoughts then—as rhyme to rhyme.
But all things fair and strange did chime
With his thoughts then—as rhyme to rhyme.
An angel had not startled him,
Dropping from Heaven's encyclic rim
To breathe from glory in the Dim—
Dropping from Heaven's encyclic rim
To breathe from glory in the Dim—
Much less a lady, riding slow
Upon a palfrey white as snow,
And smooth as a snow-cloud could go.
Upon a palfrey white as snow,
And smooth as a snow-cloud could go.
Full upon his she turned her face,—
"What, ho, sir poet! dost thou pace
Our woods at night in ghostly chace
"What, ho, sir poet! dost thou pace
Our woods at night in ghostly chace
"Of some fair Dryad of old tales,
Who chaunts between the nightingales,
And over sleep by song prevails?"
Who chaunts between the nightingales,
And over sleep by song prevails?"
She smiled; but he could see arise
Her soul from far adown her eyes,
Prepared as if for sacrifice.
Her soul from far adown her eyes,
Prepared as if for sacrifice.
She looked a queen who seemeth gay
From royal grace alone: "Now, nay,"
He answered,—" slumber passed away,
From royal grace alone: "Now, nay,"
He answered,—" slumber passed away,
