HOLD of the Maker, not the Made; THAT book is good Which puts me in a working mood.2 What parts, what gems, what colors shine,— LIKE vaulters in a circus round Who leap from horse to horse, but never touch the ground. FOR Genius made his cabin wide, THE atom displaces all atoms beside, To transmute crime to wisdom, so to stem The vice of Japhet by the thought of Shem. HE could condense cerulean ether FORBORE the ant-hill, shunned to tread, I HAVE no brothers and no peers, THE brook sings on, but sings in vain He planted where the deluge ploughed, FOR what need I of book or priest, Salute the bard who is alive And only sees what he doth give. COIN the day-dawn into lines In which its proper splendor shines; Which all its marvel shall rehearse, Chasing with words fast-flowing things; nor try To plant thy shrivelled pedantry On the shoulders of the sky. Aн, not to me those dreams belong! THE Muse's hill by Fear is guarded, A bolder foot is still rewarded. His instant thought a poet spoke, An inch of ground the lightning strook IF bright the sun, he tarries, No more baggage than a bird.. THE Asmodean feat is mine, SLIGHTED Minerva's learnèd tongue, But leaped with joy when on the wind The shell of Clio rung. FRAGMENTS ON NATURE AND LIFE NATURE THE patient Pan, Music to the march of time. This poor tooting, creaking cricket, Pan, half asleep, rolling over Feigns to sleep, sleeping never; Well he knows his own affair, COME search the wood for flowers, |