The Philosophy of Love. [A Plea in Defence of Virtue and Truth!] A Poem in Six Cantos, with Other Poems
On parapet of yonder bridge, which spans the flowing brook,
A youth sat, pen in hand, as on his knee he held a book:
Its open page was virgin white, unsullied and unwrit;
No mark of rising genius there, to tell of flowing wit.
Poetry; NatureAside his head was turn’d, as if the sky aslant he’d view;
But ah! he had a vacant look, he seem’d to listen too.
Yet nought he saw, or heard, on which his pen he might employ,
Though Nature round had many charms, and all seem’d full of joy
“Come, heav’nly Inspiration, come! me aid,” at length he cried:
‘Increase perception in my soul, and be my pen employed
I ready am t’ embrace what theme, on which thou may’st give light;
And well rewarded will I be, in having power to write.
The sun shone from meridian heights, whence fleecy clouds were spread;
And Nature wore her best attire, and flowers sweet odours shed.
Here, fields of grain; there, grazing kine; which rural things bespoke:
While warblers, in the neighb’ring copse, the various echoes woke!
These all impress’d him not, until his pray’r good answer got,
When all his blankness got dispell’d, as thoughts within him wrought;
Now, many themes present themselves, but one must be his choice;
Since in him brightly beams such light, which makes his heart rejoice!
Poetry; Nature; Past; FutureHis eye turn’d on the bubbling brook, which dimpling flow’d along
Between two flow’ry banks, he felt enamour’d with its song;
He heard its language, once unknown, in all its strains sublime;
And saw, in ceaseless rapid flow, the mighty course of Time!
Above the bridge, he saw pourtray’d time future coming on;
And there, beneath, at once discern’d time present,— past, anon.
Nay, whence the stream, and where it goes, as hid from straining eyes,
He there descried emphaticly, two vast Eternities.—
No better theme could him engage than the instructive brook;
Employment gladly got his pen, and soon he fill’d his book!