Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO SIR RODERICK MURCHISON, by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: What see I through the mist of years? A friend Last Line: With shouts that shake the holly-branch above. Subject(s): Murchison, Sir Roderick (1792-1871); Science; Scientists | ||||||||
What see I through the mist of years? a friend, If the most ignorant of mortal men In every science, may pronounce his name Whom every science raises above all. Murchison! thou art he. Upon the bank Of Loire thou camest to me, brought by Hare The witty and warm-hearted, passing through That shady garden whose broad tower ascends From chamber over chamber; there I dwelt, The flowers my guests, the birds my pensioners, Books my companions, and but few beside. After two years the world's devastator Was driven forth, yet only to return And stamp again upon a fallen race. Back to old England flew my countrymen; Even brave Bentham, whose inventive skill Baffled at Chesme and submerged the fleet Of Ottoman, urged me to flight with him Ere the infuriate enemy arrived. I wrote to Carnot, I am here at Tours, And will remain. He praised my confidence In the French honour; it was placed in his. No house but mine was left unoccupied In the whole city by the routed troops. Ere winter came 'twas time to cross the Alps; Como invited me; nor long ere came Southey, a sorrowing guest, who lately lost His only boy. We walkt aside the lake, And mounted to the level downs above, Where if we thought of Skiddaw, named it not. I led him to Bellaggio, of earth's gems The brightest. We in England have as bright, Said he, and turned his face toward the west. I fancied in his eyes there was a tear, I know there was in mine: we both stood still. Gone is he now to join the son in bliss, Innocent each alike, one longest spared To show that all men have not lived in vain. Gone too is Hare: afar from us he lies, In sad Palermo, where the most accurst Cover his bones with bones of free men slain. Again I turn to thee, O Murchison! Why hast thou lookt so deep into the earth To find her treasures? Gold we thought had done Its worst before: now fields are left untill'd, And cheerful songs speed not the tardy woof. How dare I blame thee? 'twas not thy offence, And good from evil springs, as day from night! The covetous and vicious delve the mine And sieve the dross that industry may work For nobler uses: soon shall crops arise More plenteous from it, soon the poor shall dwell In their own houses, and their children throw Unstinted fuel on the Christmas blaze With shouts that shake the holly-branch above. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REACTIONARY ESSAY ON APPLIED SCIENCE by PHYLLIS MCGINLEY THE POLITICIAN OF THE IRISH EARLDOM by HILAIRE BELLOC AN AMERICAN SCENE by NORMAN DUBIE WHY WAIT FOR SCIENCE by ROBERT FROST DIXIT INSIPIENS by CAROLYN KIZER GLOBULE by ALICIA SUSKIN OSTRIKER A FIESOLAN IDYL by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR |
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