Classic Poem

This man or that may be the chosen priest
Of th' unseen powers that move in earth and air
Who stand revealed to some high soul and rare,
That common men, the lowest and the least,
They too may have their portion of the feast:
With him the Powers their mighty secrets share,
To him the flowers of summer bloom more fair,
To him a brighter splendour gilds the East.

But all who love have felt an impulse stir
In heart and brain that quickens sense and sight,
Till nature's book of beauty and delight
Is open to them, like a scroll unfurled:
And he that loves needs no interpreter:
For in him lives the love of all the world.