THE light is kindling in his eye, The colour on his cheek; And thoughts, the passionate, the deep, Their charmed silence break; Yet not to pour themselves in song, But in those burning words That come when some chance touch has waked The spirit's secret chords. How eloquent, how beautiful, Like morning in the north Melting away the dreary ice, His noble mind came forth! He stood the centre of the ring, Awakening in each breast Feelings and thoughts, forgotten, though Their noblest and their best. 'Twas but a moment while they own'd The youthful poet's sway; A beacon light upon the hill, To warn and die away. Again his downcast eye was dim, Again his cheek was pale; Again around his beating heart Closed its accustom'd veil. A moment's pause, a moment's praise, Sufficed to change the scene; And careless word and careless laugh Arose where mind had been. So flings the lamp upon the wind Its bright and dying flame: -- I thought, alas, the waste of life, The vanity of fame! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SONG FROM THE COPTIC by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE A DEAD HARVEST (IN KENSINGTON GARDENS) by ALICE MEYNELL SONG AT THE FEAST OF BROUGHAM CASTLE; UPON RSTORATION OF LORD CLIFFORD by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH LA VILLE DU DETROIT by LEVI BISHOP THE PASSING YEAR by MATHILDE BLIND HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 34 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |