Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/327

 SONETS, 317 XXlII. O1 StEIlG SOME FIlE PAIlTIlGS. S?UI'ZSDOOS A!e]o, ! gaze o'eraw'd On the wild wonders thtt thy pencil'dealt, O'erpower'd with ecstasy, too deep to melt In aught, save tears; too holy to applaud By aught, but silence. Nor, enchanting Claude, Less ou thy milder acenan my soul hath. dwelt. Oh, then what rapture must Four sols have felt, When our conceptions leapt in light abroad, While Artbefore the shrine of Nature knelt, And caught, and clothed her oracles sublime. Oh, I would pour my spirit on the time, When your minds travail'd with each glorious birth, For poets, who are painters.too, in thme, Claim kindred with your touched Promethean earth ! ......... Google

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