Page:Felicia Hemans in The Winter's Wreath 1832.pdf/6

 "And the bright beings, their own hearts' creations,
 * Bright, yet all human, here are breathing still;

Conflicts, and agonies, and exultations,
 * Are here, and victories of prevailing will!

"Listen, oh, listen! Let their high words cheer thee!
 * Their swan-like music, ringing through all woes!

Let my voice bring their holy influence near thee,
 * The Elysian air of their divine repose!

"Oh, wouldst thou turn to earth! Not earth, all furrow'd
 * By the old traces of man's toil and care,

But the green youthful world, that never sorrow'd,
 * The world of leaves, and dews, and summer air.

"Look on these flowers! As o'er an altar, shedding
 * O'er Milton's page, soft light from colour'd urns!

They are the links, man's heart to nature wedding,
 * When to her breast the prodigal returns.

"They are from lone wild places, forest-dingles,
 * Fresh banks of many a low-voiced hidden stream,

Where the sweet star of eve looks down, and mingles
 * Faint lustre with the water-lily's gleam.

"They are from where the soft winds play in gladness,
 * Covering the turf with pearly blossom-showers;—

Too richly dower'd, O friend! are we for sadness,
 * Look on an Empire—Mind and Nature—ours!"