Classic Poem

SONNET.

While bards illustrious, rich from learning's stream,
That wavy winds his classic shores along,
Inhaling strength, as heaven's resistless beam,
Sublime the world with high heroic song, —
I, artless, touch a less ambitious theme,
Rude, wandering nature's solitudes among,
What time the fires of eve begin to gleam,
And, thickening, rise aerial voices strong
There, giving cheerful to the passing gale
Devotion's note, that scorns the greedy grave,
I ask no more, could but my harp prevail,
One single relic of the good to save;
And if the virtuous poor man in my tale
A while be ransom'd from oblivion's wave.