UNCONSCIOUS as the sunshine, simply sweet And generous as that, thou dost not close Thyself in art, as life were but a rose To rumple bee-like with luxurious feet; Thy higher mind therein finds sure retreat, But not from care of common hopes and woes; Thee the dark chamber, thee the unfriended, knows, Although no babbling crowds thy praise repeat: Consummate artist, who life's landscape bleak Hast brimmed with sun to many a clouded eye, Touched to a brighter hue the beggar's cheek, Hung over orphaned lives a gracious sky, And traced for eyes, that else would vainly seek, Fair pictures of an angel drawing nigh! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FRUIT GARDEN PATH by AMY LOWELL THE KING OF SPAIN by MAXWELL BODENHEIM A NOCTURNAL UPON ST. LUCY'S DAY, BEING THE SHORTEST DAY by JOHN DONNE THE LOVE SONG OF J. ALFRED PRUFROCK by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT DEATH AND CUPID; AN ALLEGORY by JOHN GODFREY SAXE TO ALFRED TENNYSON, MY GRANDSON by ALFRED TENNYSON CHARACTERS: SUSANNAH BARBAULD MARISSAL by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |