Thus prayed he. And an answer stirred his soul,
"That which is born of Truth dies never. Time
Still takes its sweet impression as it flies,
And drops it seed-like into some wise heart,
Where it may blossom and bear fruit anew
To make its good perpetual. Thy prayer
Is heard. The fire shall go from Heaven. Thy work
Shall live."
Homeward he sped, and by his work stood soon.
O'er that sweet visage once so motionless,
To his rapt gaze there stole the rays divine
That bear all high intelligence of heaven,
And undulating o'er each graceful line
Made the cold stone angelic. Liquid eyes,
Bright with all pure imaginings, and full
Of young emotion, love, and gentleness,
Beamed softly on him in dim wonderment;
Whilst from her lips that parted half for speech,
Flowed the deep sweetness of a woman's smile,
And o'er his perplex'd spirit shed the light
Of Hope and glad assurance. All her frame
Glowed with the rosy hue of life and youth,
And melting from the rigidness of stone
Sank into attitudes of peerless grace.
And when conviction strengthened in his soul
As the awak'ning beauties of his work
Expanded 'neath the spirit influence,
He clasp'd the maid unto his beating heart,
As father might the daughter of his love,
Rejoicing with blent pride and tenderness
In the supernal beauty of his child.
Hearing within him murmurs of a voice—
"I have accomplish'd, have not wrought in vain,
Left no faint record written on the tide
Of life, to perish with its setting wave;
But my fair work shall live for evermore,
And through the phalanx of advancing Ages
Speed like a herald sounding to the world,
'Behold a man who crushed oblivion,
'And girding up his soul in faith and love
'Wrought like a God beyond the reach of Time!'"
ODE TO FANCY.
O! thou art a sweet and playful thing,
And light as a lark upon the wing,
Pouring the melody of thy mirth,
In sunny showers down to the earth.
The sunbeams pave o'er the crystal waters
A pathway for thee to Triton's daughters,
Down in the depths of the waving sea,
Where their bright archëd palaces be:
There mermaids hasten unto thy side,
And sing their songs till the ravished tide
Feels the soft music through all its swells,
And whispers them o'er to the coral shells.
Fays are thy playmates at dewy e'en,
For o'er their land they have made thee queen,
Crowned thee with flowers of fadeless hue,
And drained thy health in the honey dew;
And over mountain, and hill, and dale,
'Lumed by the glow of the moonbeams pale,
Thy merry train in the stillness dance,
Like a beam of pleasure and radiance;
Thine are the revels each summer night,
Held on the mead by the glow-worm's light,
Till maidens, straying at early dawn,
Trace thy blithe footsteps upon the lawn;
Thus dost thou lead on thy joyous rout,
And trip around till thou'rt wearied out;
And in the harebells the yellow bee
Creeps in the morning to waken thee
Forth from thy sweet dreams of joy and love,
That rise in odorous breath above.
Like some fair wizard thou weavest spells
Over all flowers, and brooks, and dells,
Wreathing above every mossy bed,
Till with bright dreams it is canopied
And through the rose-coloured atmosphere
All things more lovely and bright appear,
Losing the faintness of earthly things,
And shining with heaven's illuminings.
Thine are the Naiads and Nymphs which rise
From dell and fountain to daze our eyes;
Thine are the spirits 'mid leafy trees,
Whose voices come to us on the breeze.
Thine are the maidens whose trackless feet
Bear to the flower cups their honey sweet,
Pressing their perfume till through and through
Is pierced the soul of the rising dew.
Lead me, sweet sprite, to thy sunny dwelling!
Is it where brooklets are softly welling
Amid the greenwoods with many a fall,
Making the lily-cups musical?
Is it where mosses and violets meet,
And blend their lives in an union sweet,
Whither the butterflies speed to tell
Glad tales of the flowers thou lovest so well?
Is't in the covert whose lonely shade
The ring-dove her resting place hath made,
Lulled by the melody of her note
Till dreams of Elysium round thee float?
Is't on the breast of the sunlit sea,
With ripples of glory to circle thee,
Bright flashing dolphins to bear thy car,
And waft thee to glorious isles afar?
Is't in some cave where the light of day
Borrows new hues from the diamond ray,
Paven with jewels and silv'ry sand
Borne by the waves from the mermaid's land
Is't in the arms of the balmy gale
Over the ocean thou lovest to sail,
Loosing the folds of thy silken hair
To float at will on the perfumed air?
Is it by valley or heath-clad mountain?
Is it by streamlet or limpid fountain?
Tell me, and I will come to thee,
Follow thy flight through immensity!
Dost thou not roam in the realms of sleep,
While stars above thee their bright watch keep,
Lapping the soul in a crystal sea,
Whose every swell is felicity?
And in the halls of her quiet home,
Where darkness pillars the starry dome,
Making all beauty more beautiful,
And keeping the moonbeams soft and cool,
Dost thou not sit till the morning beams
Weaving the fabric of happy dreams,
Bringing dear visions to weeping eyes,
Till sorrow transforms to paradise?
Dost thou not kiss sweet lips till they smile,
And murmur of joys they knew erewhile,
And build up hopes that are shatter'd quite,
Decking the past in a robe of light?