Classic Poem

“But see what living glory floods the west—”
They turned and all the chesnut trees were drest
In tangled threads of splendour and the sky
Grew rosy from its amber extascy—
“Behold” spake he of song—“In dusk withdrawn
“The rosy sunset prophesies the dawn—
“Fair weather for the morrow—Even thus
“Fair setting systems prophecy to us
“A fairer dawn than if o'erswarthed with storm,
“When even the light that was both loses light & form”—
“Well, well! a poets soul may put at ease
“With images and symbols such as these!
“But as for me—and yet I know you John
“This patient spirit is but half put on
“Many's the time I've heard a muttered curse
“Leap like a demon hunted your smooth verse—
“In act to canter thro' Arcadian measures
“And murmur pretty pastorals and country pleasures.
“O then I hear you spur a fiery hoof,
“And laud the blazing rick, the outraged roof,
“Pampered oppression put to its own bitter proof!
“Then madness in the many was a sign
“Of Gods blinding working messenger divine—
“Fair-setting systems then o'erswarthed with storm
“Were promise of the truer light and form!
“What means this change that now so meek & bland
“You have become, I cannot understand.”
Spake he of the bright eye and horny hand—
“Then I will tell you” and the poets brow
Flung heavenward beneath the chesnut bough
Flushed with the inspiration of his thought.
“In me no common changes time has wrought
“And by no common means—