Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/427

RESTRAINT RESTRAINT

I

, in thy sacred verse

Nothing light or mean rehearse,

Nor its woven text employ

With thy common grief and joy.

Thoughts the unanointed share

Need have not of raiment rare,

But in prose may range at will

And be fitly clothen still.

II

the fabric of thine art

As a precious thing apart—

Such a robe as only may

Wrap one on a holy day;

If at all its folds be thrown

Round experience thine own,

Let it grace in argent white

Thy most rapturous delight,

Or in darkest sable show

Deeper woes than others know,

Lest the mantle, lightly worn,

Bring thy trifling soul to scorn.

III

thy skill no more invest

Listless fancy, mocking jest,

Fashion of the fleeting day,

Shallow love and idle play,

Nor the wisdom, poor and plain,

Of a dull, didactic brain.

Its adornment should enfold

Thought as rich and fine as gold. 397