THE Sun's your radiant painter, he With sudden flush and verdancy Will often at one stroke transform Grey deathliness into a warm Interior; then the void is filled, The ghosts are driven, the goblin killed, And in a picture-sphere we pass Like pictures over mirrored grass; The spirit in this sea of hues Finds the refraction that renews, Is given a sign, is given an eye And swift possesses earth and sky. Here of the sunbeam's fruitful art I find a human counterpart, And from the gleaming evidence Feel beauty through a seventh sense; Where this discernment lights the track, The prison's rock-wall is a wrack Dispelled by Prospero's wind or wand, And happy islands sing beyond; Let this kind energy but take A thing of disproportioned make, -- A house of childish non-design, -- That thing becomes a friend of mine; Upon the alien doors and walls This natural and rare glory falls, The local grows the transmarine, And much grey work blooms into green; Those flowers he chooses, though born fair, Have found the same enchanted air, And double-fragranced with his blessing Seem for some white saint's possessing, -- Yet not out of common range, The Sun's creation is not strange; Fortune haunts us, moments bloom Like these, and Life's a pictured room. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EASTER WINGS by GEORGE HERBERT MURMURINGS IN A FIELD HOSPITAL by CARL SANDBURG LOGOGRIPH by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE HAWAIIAN FLIGHT SQUADRON by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN MIND IN CREATION by RICHARD BLACKMORE THE ROBBER by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD KING AND PEOPLE by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB FO'C'S'LE YARNS: 2D SERIES. DEDICATION by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |