Poems (Barrett)/Lessons from the Gorse
Lessons from the Gorse.
"To win the secret of a weed's plain heart." Lowell.
Mountain gorses ever-golden! Cankered not the whole year long! Do ye teach us to he strong, Howsoever pricked and holden Like your thorny blooms, and so Trodden on by rain and snow, Up the hillside of this life, as bleak as where ye grow'?
Mountain blossoms, shining blossoms! Do ye teach us to be glad When no summer can be had, Blooming in our inward bosoms? Ye, whom God preserveth still, Set as lights upon a hill, Tokens to the wintry earth, that Beauty liveth still!
Mountain gorses, do ye teach us From that academic chair Canopied with azure air, That the first fruit Wisdom reaches Hath the hue of childly cheek? Ye, who live on mountain peak, Yet live low along the ground, beside the grasses meek!
Mountain gorses! since Linnæus Knelt beside you on the sod, For your beauty thanking God,— For your teaching, ye should see us Bowing in prostration new,— Whence arisen,—if one or two Drops be on our cheeks—O world! they are not tears, but dew.