For at every turn to want a word,—thou canst not guess that want;
It is as lack of breath or bread: life hath no grief more galling.
Come, I will tell thee of a joy, which the parasites of pleasure have not known,
Though earth and air and sea have gorged all the appetites of sense.
Behold, what fire is in his eye, what fervour on his cheek!
That glorious burst of winged words! how bound they from his tongue!
The full expression of the mighty thought, the strong triumphant argument,
The rush of native eloquence, resistless as Niagara,
The keen demand, the clear reply, the fine poetic image,
The nice analogy, the clenching fact, the metaphor bold and free,