But in this rural life, mid nature's forms Of grandeur and of beauty, why assume That Harry Hastings had no inward joy Of sentiment, and conscience-cherish'd thought? When splendour of internal structure warms The bosom's lighted mirrors, which allume The soul's recesses, spirits then employ Their skill in webs with mingled figures wrought. Part from within of heavenly elements, They add to what external sense supplies; Then mind and conscience give their pure assents, And airy shapes start up, and visions rise; And though the fancies pass unspelt away, Perchance they form the sunshine of the day! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LACHIN Y GAIR by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TO THE AUTHOR OF 'THE ROBBERS' (SCHILLER) by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE EPITAPH: FOR MY GRANDMOTHER by COUNTEE CULLEN THE LOVE SONG OF J. ALFRED PRUFROCK by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT THE SOFTNESS OF SYBARIS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 14 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: MORNING AND MEETING by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE LORD HAYES: SONG. ROSES by THOMAS CAMPION |