Poems (Acton)/The Cry of Genius
THE CRY OF GENIUS.
Fetter me down—but my bounding form Will burst from the pond'rous chain,Which care and want can forge to check The workings of the brain.
Know ye my strength? A heaven-born And spanless thing am I;And the scorning of earth's mighty ones, Genius can well defy!
Hollow-cheeked poverty comes to lend A link to those fetters brave,Which are to drag down my panting form To the confines of the grave!
It comes in vain! I shall find no grave! I do, and my deeds live on,When the brain and the hand, and their reason and might, In the flight of time are gone!
Remember ye when I stood beneath The Scottish poet's roof;Where bright-eyed hope with drooping soul Was lingering aloof?
(Oh the shades of your bards bear ye witness that oft More gallant my offspring be,Born and nurtured in blasts of this life's fierce storms, Than reared amid luxury.)
'Twas for me to fling open the portal, closed So long to fame's golden ray;And note as my work the gathering gloom In the sunlight pass away.
'Twas mine to bring forth the Peasant-bard, In a changeless home to dwell;In a nation's heart, where as years pass by, They will cherish him right well!
Ay! and many a brow that was bent to earth, Unknown, in your own fair land,Has been raised and wreathed with the laurel-leaf, Alone by this single hand!
It hath power to bow down rank's gilded form At the shrine of a mighty mind,Tho' the wizard hand be a toil-cramped one, And the wizard a nameless hind.
Then fetter me down! but I rise to burst The links of the pond'rous chain,Which care and want can forge to check The working of the brain!
What! tho' more oft than in stately halls, In the earth's dark spots I lie;The scorning of its mighty ones, Genius can well defy!R. A.