THE DREAMER.
"Tis the music revealing
Truth, Nature, and Feeling;
But strings of such texture had soon gather'd rust
If they met with no finger,
About them to linger;
To tune the rich, soul-chords, and sweep off the dust.
Truth, Nature, and Feeling;
But strings of such texture had soon gather'd rust
If they met with no finger,
About them to linger;
To tune the rich, soul-chords, and sweep off the dust.
"The loud, chafing action.
Of Gold, Toil, and Faction,
Had drown'd the fine echo from Heaven now heard;
If no minstrel were straying
Among ye, and playing
On notes that will only respond to his word.
Of Gold, Toil, and Faction,
Had drown'd the fine echo from Heaven now heard;
If no minstrel were straying
Among ye, and playing
On notes that will only respond to his word.
"The strains he is chanting
Will set your souls panting
With impulse of Freedom and yearning of Love;
The Song that he teaches
Has magic that reaches
Your brightest of earth-chains, and links them above.
Will set your souls panting
With impulse of Freedom and yearning of Love;
The Song that he teaches
Has magic that reaches
Your brightest of earth-chains, and links them above.
"Ye are proud of the pine tree,
The oak, and the vine tree;
The rose on your bush, and the fruit on your wall:
But say, would ye shut out
The fresh wind, or put out
The sun, bringing perfume and beauty from all?
The oak, and the vine tree;
The rose on your bush, and the fruit on your wall:
But say, would ye shut out
The fresh wind, or put out
The sun, bringing perfume and beauty from all?
"As the fresh wind that hummeth,
The Poet One cometh
To stir into health the dense, world-ridden brain;
As that sun paints the blossom,
He tinges your bosom,
With colours that shame all its clay-gather'd stain.
The Poet One cometh
To stir into health the dense, world-ridden brain;
As that sun paints the blossom,
He tinges your bosom,
With colours that shame all its clay-gather'd stain.
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