Page:Poems Argent.djvu/78

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66
POEMS.
That broad white brow so full of living thought,
The sweet pathetic eyes that seemed to scan
With larger sight than ours what time had wrought
      Upon the heart of man.

Upon her face there sat the seal of truth,
The loftiest ideal human soul can reach,
The dream of beauty and perpetual youth,
      All that true worth can teach.

Within the distance towered the hills of Rome,
Th' immortal city that was once so fair,
With pinnacle and temple, spire and dome,
      And tesselated stair!

George Eliot! great in wisdom and in fame,
I stand with reverence all mute, and gaze
Upon the crownèd lustre round thy name,
      Above poor human praise.

Not far beyond that glorious head of power
Elizabeth Browning showed a smiling face,
That drooped like to a withered lily flower,
      In that ghost-haunted place.

Too weird-like were her eyes with sweetness wrought,
And wan ill-health betrayed her painful sway
Upon those classic brows of deepest thought,
      Whereon death's finger lay.