ODE.THE BIRTH OF POESY.
Spirit that floatest o’er me now,So beautiful, so bright,I know thee by that lip, that brow,That eye of beaming light.Hail! Sovereign of the golden lyre,Rapture-breathing God,All Hail!We bow beneath thy rod,Who dost, for aye, the glowing thought inspire.Hail! Radiant One, we welcome thee,Heaven-born, holy Poesy!Spirit who weavestThy sweet spells so strong,Answer me, answer me,Spirit of Song,Where was thy birth-place,Where is thy home,Why, o’er the doom’d earth,Spirit, dost thou roam?“When the dewy earth was young,When the flowers of Eden sprung,When first woman’s smile exprestAll the heaven of her breast,Then and there I had my birth,In the infancy of earth.“Angel-hands my cradle made,Woven gay from every flower,And they swung it in the shade,Sheltered from the noon-tide hour,While the balmy air that creptMurmuring thro’ the waving trees,Rocked me gently till I sleptIn the music of the breeze.“Then, a hollow shell they brought,Strung across with golden wires,Every chord with passion fraught,Thrills with joy, with hope inspires.Angel-songs at eve I heardRise from many a circling hill,And my harp whene’er ’t is stirr’dTrembles to their cadence still!“I am the spirit of joy and of mirth,And I gladden the hearts of the sons of earth,I twine a chaplet of deathless flowersFor the fair young brows of the laughing Hours,I show to the Poet’s dreaming eye,The shadowy realms of Phantasy,A charm o’er the earth and the air I fling,—Such are the offerings I bring.Beings that people the depths of air,Come when I speak my wizard prayer;I tell my will, and away! away!O’er the boundless fields of glowing day,Where the quivering sunbeams ever play,Onward and onward they wing their flight,Brightening towards the source of light.Beings that people the depths of sea,Rise at my call and bow before me,And they bear me down to their coral caves,Where ever the roll of Sapphire wavesThro’ vaulted roof and temples dim,Sounds forth a strange and solemn hymn.But would’st thou know where I love to dwell,And where I weave my strongest spell,—Where beameth the light of woman’s eye,Where flowers spring up, there, there, am I!”
Spirit that floatest o’er me now,So beautiful, so bright,I know thee by that lip, that brow,That eye of beaming light.Hail! Sovereign of the golden lyre,Rapture-breathing God,All Hail!We bow beneath thy rod,Who dost, for aye, the glowing thought inspire.Hail! Radiant One, we welcome thee,Heaven-born, holy Poesy!Spirit who weavestThy sweet spells so strong,Answer me, answer me,Spirit of Song,Where was thy birth-place,Where is thy home,Why, o’er the doom’d earth,Spirit, dost thou roam?“When the dewy earth was young,When the flowers of Eden sprung,When first woman’s smile exprestAll the heaven of her breast,Then and there I had my birth,In the infancy of earth.“Angel-hands my cradle made,Woven gay from every flower,And they swung it in the shade,Sheltered from the noon-tide hour,While the balmy air that creptMurmuring thro’ the waving trees,Rocked me gently till I sleptIn the music of the breeze.“Then, a hollow shell they brought,Strung across with golden wires,Every chord with passion fraught,Thrills with joy, with hope inspires.Angel-songs at eve I heardRise from many a circling hill,And my harp whene’er ’t is stirr’dTrembles to their cadence still!“I am the spirit of joy and of mirth,And I gladden the hearts of the sons of earth,I twine a chaplet of deathless flowersFor the fair young brows of the laughing Hours,I show to the Poet’s dreaming eye,The shadowy realms of Phantasy,A charm o’er the earth and the air I fling,—Such are the offerings I bring.Beings that people the depths of air,Come when I speak my wizard prayer;I tell my will, and away! away!O’er the boundless fields of glowing day,Where the quivering sunbeams ever play,Onward and onward they wing their flight,Brightening towards the source of light.Beings that people the depths of sea,Rise at my call and bow before me,And they bear me down to their coral caves,Where ever the roll of Sapphire wavesThro’ vaulted roof and temples dim,Sounds forth a strange and solemn hymn.But would’st thou know where I love to dwell,And where I weave my strongest spell,—Where beameth the light of woman’s eye,Where flowers spring up, there, there, am I!”
Spirit that floatest o’er me now,So beautiful, so bright,I know thee by that lip, that brow,That eye of beaming light.Hail! Sovereign of the golden lyre,Rapture-breathing God,All Hail!We bow beneath thy rod,Who dost, for aye, the glowing thought inspire.Hail! Radiant One, we welcome thee,Heaven-born, holy Poesy!
Spirit that floatest o’er me now,
So beautiful, so bright,
I know thee by that lip, that brow,
That eye of beaming light.
Hail! Sovereign of the golden lyre,
Rapture-breathing God,
All Hail!
We bow beneath thy rod,
Who dost, for aye, the glowing thought inspire.
Hail! Radiant One, we welcome thee,
Heaven-born, holy Poesy!
Spirit who weavestThy sweet spells so strong,Answer me, answer me,Spirit of Song,Where was thy birth-place,Where is thy home,Why, o’er the doom’d earth,Spirit, dost thou roam?
Spirit who weavest
Thy sweet spells so strong,
Answer me, answer me,
Spirit of Song,
Where was thy birth-place,
Where is thy home,
Why, o’er the doom’d earth,
Spirit, dost thou roam?
“When the dewy earth was young,When the flowers of Eden sprung,When first woman’s smile exprestAll the heaven of her breast,Then and there I had my birth,In the infancy of earth.
“When the dewy earth was young,
When the flowers of Eden sprung,
When first woman’s smile exprest
All the heaven of her breast,
Then and there I had my birth,
In the infancy of earth.
“Angel-hands my cradle made,Woven gay from every flower,And they swung it in the shade,Sheltered from the noon-tide hour,While the balmy air that creptMurmuring thro’ the waving trees,Rocked me gently till I sleptIn the music of the breeze.
“Angel-hands my cradle made,
Woven gay from every flower,
And they swung it in the shade,
Sheltered from the noon-tide hour,
While the balmy air that crept
Murmuring thro’ the waving trees,
Rocked me gently till I slept
In the music of the breeze.
“Then, a hollow shell they brought,Strung across with golden wires,Every chord with passion fraught,Thrills with joy, with hope inspires.Angel-songs at eve I heardRise from many a circling hill,And my harp whene’er ’t is stirr’dTrembles to their cadence still!
“Then, a hollow shell they brought,
Strung across with golden wires,
Every chord with passion fraught,
Thrills with joy, with hope inspires.
Angel-songs at eve I heard
Rise from many a circling hill,
And my harp whene’er ’t is stirr’d
Trembles to their cadence still!
“I am the spirit of joy and of mirth,And I gladden the hearts of the sons of earth,I twine a chaplet of deathless flowersFor the fair young brows of the laughing Hours,I show to the Poet’s dreaming eye,The shadowy realms of Phantasy,A charm o’er the earth and the air I fling,—Such are the offerings I bring.Beings that people the depths of air,Come when I speak my wizard prayer;I tell my will, and away! away!O’er the boundless fields of glowing day,Where the quivering sunbeams ever play,Onward and onward they wing their flight,Brightening towards the source of light.Beings that people the depths of sea,Rise at my call and bow before me,And they bear me down to their coral caves,Where ever the roll of Sapphire wavesThro’ vaulted roof and temples dim,Sounds forth a strange and solemn hymn.But would’st thou know where I love to dwell,And where I weave my strongest spell,—Where beameth the light of woman’s eye,Where flowers spring up, there, there, am I!”
“I am the spirit of joy and of mirth,
And I gladden the hearts of the sons of earth,
I twine a chaplet of deathless flowers
For the fair young brows of the laughing Hours,
I show to the Poet’s dreaming eye,
The shadowy realms of Phantasy,
A charm o’er the earth and the air I fling,—
Such are the offerings I bring.
Beings that people the depths of air,
Come when I speak my wizard prayer;
I tell my will, and away! away!
O’er the boundless fields of glowing day,
Where the quivering sunbeams ever play,
Onward and onward they wing their flight,
Brightening towards the source of light.
Beings that people the depths of sea,
Rise at my call and bow before me,
And they bear me down to their coral caves,
Where ever the roll of Sapphire waves
Thro’ vaulted roof and temples dim,
Sounds forth a strange and solemn hymn.
But would’st thou know where I love to dwell,
And where I weave my strongest spell,—
Where beameth the light of woman’s eye,
Where flowers spring up, there, there, am I!”
S.
S.
S.
S.