THE POET 383
Love beauty, which is truth to love ;
These of perfection parents are ; Yet must thou soar gross sense above,
Whilst charmed with all things good and fair. Thy temper restless must aspire, Yet rule a monarch o'er desire.
��Revere the All-Wise, but feel no fear ;
Serve neither creed, nor clique, nor place, But live half jovial, half austere.
Teacher and friend of all thy race ; So mingling tenderness with truth, That both may love thee, Age and Youth.
Next, learn betimes in Nature's face
Each nicer feature to descry. Each transient character to trace ;
Hold fellowship with cloud and sky, With bird, and beast, and flower, and tree. The running brook, and roaring sea.
Often in solitude to wander,
Often in watches of the night Upon God's works and laws to ponder,
Till Silence' self shall yield delight, Retire betimes ; yet in such mood As feels in all that each is good.
Until at last, grown old and wise, Thy skill such solace shall impart,
That thou in prophecy shalt rise Above the fame of Orpheus' art :
He feeling taught to rock and tree.
But they shall gain a tongue from thee.
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