Her right hand, as it lies Across the slender wrist of the left arm Upon her lap reposing, holds but mark No firmer grasp As in a posy, with a few pale ears Of yellowing corn, the same that overtopped - Not from a source less sacred is derived Words have something told More than the pencil can, and verily More than is needed, but the precious Art Forgives their interference, Art divine, That both creates and fixes, in despite Of Death and Time, the marvels it hath wrought. Strange contrasts have we in this world of ours! That posture, and the look of filial love Thinking of past and gone, with what is left Stretched forth with trembling hope? - In every realm, From high Gibraltar to Siberian plains, That Europe knows, would echo this appeal; By labors that have touched the hearts of kings, Breathed out these words: "Here daily do we sit, Thanks given to God for daily bread, and here, They are in truth the Substance, we the Shadows." So spake the mild Jeronymite, his griefs Melting away within him like a dream Ere he had ceased to gaze, perhaps to speak: And I, grown old, but in a happier land, Domestic Portrait! have to verse consigned In thy calm presence those heart-moving words: Words that can soothe, more than they agitate; Whose spirit, like the angel that went down Into Bethesda's pool, with healing virtue Informs the fountain in the human breast Which by the visitation was disturbed. But why this stealing tear? Companion mute, On thee I look, not sorrowing; fare thee well, My Song's Inspirer, once again farewell! * 1884. *The pile of buildings, composing the palace and convent of San Lorenzo, has, in common usage, lost its proper name in that of the Escurial, a village at the foot of the hill upon which the splendid edifice, built by Philip the Second, stands. It need scarcely be added that Wilkie is the painter alluded to. XLI. THE FOREGOING SUBJECT RESUMED. AMONG a grave fraternity of Monks, For One, but surely not for One alone, Though but a simple object, into light Called forth by those affections that endear The private hearth; though keeping thy sole seat POEMS OF SENTIMENT AND REFLECTION. 319 Or sacred wonder, growing with the power whose love, On earth, will be revived, we trust, in heaven.* 1884. XLII. So fair, so sweet, withal so sensitive, Would that the little Flowers were born to live, Conscious of half the pleasure which they give ; That to this mountain-daisy's self were known *In the class entitled "Musings," in Mr. Southey's Minor Poems, is one upon his own miniature picture, taken in childhood, and another upon a landscape painted by Gaspar Poussin. It is possible that every word of the above verses, though similar in subject, might have been written had the author been unacquainted with those beautiful effusions of poetic sentiment. But, for his own satisfaction, he must be allowed thus publicly to acknowledge the pleasure those two Poems of his Friend have given him, and the grateful influence they have upon his mind as often as he reads them, or thinks of them. |