WHEN Heaven was stormy, Earth was cold, And sunlight shunned the wold and wave, -- Thought burrowed in the churchyard mould, And fed on dreams that haunt the grave: -- But now that Heaven is freed from strife, And Earth's full heart with rapture swells, Thought soars the realms of endless life Above the shining asphodels! What flower that drinks the south wind's breath, What sparkling leaf, what Hebe-Morn, But flouts the sullen graybeard, Death, And laughs our Arctic doubts to scorn? Pale scientist! scant of healthful blood, Your ghostly tomes, one moment, close; Pluck freshness with a spring-time bud, Find wisdom in the opening rose: From toil which, blindly delving, gropes When time but plays a juggler's part, Ah go! and breathe the dew-lit hopes That cluster round a violet's heart: Mark the white lily whose sweet core Hath many a wild-bee swarm enticed, And draw therefrom a honeyed lore Pure as the tender creed of Christ: Yea! even the weed which upward holds Its tiny ear, past bower and lawn, A lovelier faith than yours enfolds, Caught from the whispering lips of dawn! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEPPO: A VENETIAN STORY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE SCRIBE by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE TO THE NIGHTINGALE by ANNE FINCH HER DILEMMA; IN CHURCH by THOMAS HARDY STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND by REGINALD HEBER |