[IN AUTUMN'S DREAMY EAR.]
In autumn's dreamy ear, as suns go by
Whose yellow beams are dulled with languorous motes,
The deep vibrations of the cosmic notes
Are as the voice of those that prophesy.
Her spirit kindles, and her filmy eye!
In haste the fluttering robe, whose glory floats
In pictured folds, her eager soul devotes—
Lo, she with her winged harper sweeps the sky!
Splendors of blossomed time, like poppies red,
Distil dull slumbers o'er the engagëd soul
And thrall with sensuous pomp its azured dower;
Till, roused by vibrant touch from the unseen Power,
The spirit keen, freed from the painted dead,
On wings mounts up to reach its living Goal.
[VICTOR IS HE!]
Victor is he whose tremulous soul the notes
Of starry spaces hears, their far appeal,
And cries "Amen!" and sets thereto the seal
With which winged aspiration life devotes!
That seal rays golden flame, and bright connotes
The transmutation through the spirit's zeal
Of earthly passions to the high anneal
That rings the harmony that heavenward floats.
While other triremes vain withstood the guile,
The lyric prow of Orpheus easeful past
In gladsome scorn's disdain the Sirens' Isle;
And proud Calliope o'er each black mast
Whispered her thrilling taunt in ears of pain:
"I taught my Thracian boy a heavenlier strain!"