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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.