Poems (Griffith)/To C. W. A., of Taylorsville
To C. W. A., of Taylorsville.
OH minstrel of the magic lyre, thy soul Is full of fancies high and beautiful. I ne'er have seen thee, yet thy gentle thoughts And fairy dreams have wakened in my heart, A feeling so delicious, so divine, So soft, so dreamy, earnest and intense, That I have called it love. Oh yes, 'tis love, High spirit-love, my young soul feels for thine A sweet emotion, fluttering in my breast, With not one tinge of earth upon its pure And bright ethereal plumage.
Minstrel, oft, Full oft, at twilight's calm and holy time, I've mused upon thy wild enchanting lays Till I have blent a haunting thought of thee With the deep spirit of that sacred hour. And, in thy lofty inspiration, thou So oft hast pictured visions that have lived,And breathed, and glowed, and brightened in my heart,That I have named thee, in excess of love,My spirit's own interpreter.
Inspired And gifted poet, thou hast said the griefs That shade my young and lonely life should wake A sympathy within thy noble heart. Oh for that sympathy! My spirit yearns To see and bless thee for thy kindly words. Warmly and fondly do I welcome thee, My soul's true friend. Ah, yes, we will be friends; Though we may never meet, the sunset blush, The lovely vesper star, the sweet pale moon, The flowers, the waves, the zephyr, and the dew, And all the thousand thrilling harmonies Of Nature's holy lyre, shall link our souls In sweet companionship.
It matters not That we have never met, and may not meet In all our wanderings here, for I shall know And love thee, in the bright, the better world Ay, I shall know thee, for my musing soul, Sleeping and waking, oft has pictured thee On fancy's glowing canvas, and I feel That truth is in the picture.
When my soul Is revelling in joys and ecstasies, I'll send it laden with soft, rosy dreams, To hold sweet intercourse with thee, and when My thoughts and visions are of heaven, thy name Shall oft be spoken in my earnest prayers.