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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


WILLIAM MORRIS by NEWMAN HOWARD

First Line: WEEP, EYES THAT BEAUTY BRIGHTENS!
Last Line: IN CHAUCER'S HEIR.
Subject(s): ART & ARTISTS; DEATH; FREEDOM; LIFE; LOVE; MUSES; SOUL; DEAD, THE; LIBERTY;

WEEP, eyes that beauty brightens!
Mourn, hearts whose wings are song!
Whom love of man enlightens,
And hate of wrong,

Weep, gathering in your treasure!
The giver now lies mute;
The garden of our pleasure
Bears no more fruit.

Death, king of all disaster,
Makes of his work an end,
Bids us bewail a Master,
The poor a friend.

Son of the Skalds who chanted
At Olaf's wassail board,
His sagas bloom transplanted
From firth and fiord.

Therein with bright amazement
We look, as one who peers
Through some fair pictured casement
On other years;

Dreaming, we look and listen:
Stout Harpdon's basnet rings,
Rhodope's garments glisten,
Rapunzel sings:

Brynhild the Victory-Wafter,
Gudrun and Sigurd pass;
Holt, stead, and glowing rafter
Adorn the glass.

The tones waxed rarer, stronger;
The brush glow'd in his hand:
He wields it now no longer;
The wizard wand

Falls; but the windows kindle,
Fixed in the Muses' shrine:
Their lights in dark hours dwindle,
At dawn they shine;

And as he lies beneath them,
Transfigured in their rays,
We kiss his brows, and wreathe them
With sad, sweet praise;

Singing, Our poet craved not
The well-earned laurel crown,
But held his course and raved not
At fools' renown;

Not ours the sole bereavement:
Art held our Master dear,
Who, by his life's achievement
Made Art sincere;

Who, blameless, shrank from blaming,
Was gracious to disgrace,
Nor learned the trick of naming
The hapless base;

But still for Freedom striving
Lived brave and debonair,
Wat Tyler's soul surviving
In Chaucer's heir.



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