To catch the thought, by painting's spell, Howe'er remote, howe'er refined, And o'er the magic tablet tell The silent story of the mind; O'er Nature's form to glance the eye, And fix, by mimic light and shade, Her morning tinges, ere they fly, Her evening blushes, ere they fade! These are the pencil's grandest theme, Divinest of the powers divine, That light the Muse's flowery dream, And these, O prince, are richly thine! Yet, yet, when Friendship sees thee trace, In emanating soul express'd, The sweet memorial of a face On which her eye delights to rest; While o'er the lovely look serene, The smile of peace, the bloom of youth, The cheek that blushes to be seen, The eye that tells the bosom's truth; While o'er each line, so brightly true, Her soul with fond attention roves, Blessing the hand, whose various hue Could imitate the form it loves; She feels the value of thy art, And owns it with a purer zeal, A rapture, nearer to her heart, Than critic taste can @3ever@1 feel! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STREET CRIES: 6. TO RICHARD WAGNER by SIDNEY LANIER ON THE ROAD TO CHORRERA by ARLO BATES OVERTONES by WILLIAM ALEXANDER PERCY AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM by ALEXANDER POPE INSCRIPTIONS: 2. FOR A STATUE OF CHAUCER AT WOODSTOCK by MARK AKENSIDE |