Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE PATHOS OF ART, by LEWIS MORRIS (1833-1907)


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE PATHOS OF ART, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Oft, seeing the old painters' art
Last Line: Whose life, whose art still lingers on!
Subject(s): Art & Artists


OFT, seeing the old painters' art,
We find the tear unbidden start,
And feel our full hearts closer grow
To the far days of long ago.

Not burning faith, or godlike pain,
Can thus our careless thought enchain;
The heavenward gaze of souls sublime,
At once transcends, and conquers time.

Nor pictured form of seer or saint,
Which hands inspired delight to paint;
Art's highest aims of hand or tongue,
Age not, but are for ever young.

But some imperfect trivial scene,
Of homely life which once has been,
Of youth, so soon to pass away,
Of happy childhood's briefer day;

Or humble daily tasks portrayed --
The thrifty mistress with her maid;
The flowers, upon the casement set,
Which in our Aprils blossom yet;

The long processions, never done;
The time-worn palace, scarce begun;
The gondolier, who plies his oar
For stately sirs or dames of yore;

The girl with fair hair morning-stirred,
Who swings the casement for her bird;
The hunt; the feast; the simple mirth
Which marks the marriage or the birth;

The burly forms, from side to side
Careering on the frozen tide;
The long-haired knights; the ladies prim;
The chanted madrigal or hymn;

The opera, with its stately throng;
The twilight church aisles stretching long;
The spires upon the wooded wold;
The dead pathetic life of old; --

These all the musing mind can fill --
So dead, so past, yet living still:
Oh dear dead lives, oh hands long gone,
Whose Life, whose Art still lingers on!





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