Talks not the tempests too raging and loud Art never fearful where the hoarse beasts do growl? Is your little heart with you when the gray wolves do howl? Thy notes are too mellow for coarse words of mine, Ye twitter, and twitter, and twitter a song, Mean ye a time of lofty story, Mean ye a time of peaceful glory? Mean ye a time when hope shall see A thought and a deed of benignity? When twittereth, twittereth that small song, That cometh here singing that men may not die? That might makes us happy, if happy we would- I long for thy lore so exceedingly. V. Elfin are wonders, and elfin are we— They come as an arrow, go as a thought; Space is too narrow, when they would be sought. They bless and they curse-they heal and destroy, Like a beautiful thing, With golden wing, That comes from where suns are lit; Like a beautiful thing, With silver wing, That comes from where moon-birds sit; Like a shadowy thing, With dim-spread wing, That comes from where dream-birds flit. Like an ominous thing, With boding wing, That comes on plumes of the night, And yet doth bring, On boding wing, A ray of the golden light! Like a singing thing, With purple wing, That comes whence orient stars do spring- Like a meek-eyed thing, With wing all blue, That comes from a Temple where hearts are true That comes from a Temple so vast, That when at last Earth goes like a dot, There lives not an archangel Can tell you the spot Where the poor thing should dwell! Like a glorions thing, With scarlet wing, That flashing doth dazzle mortal eye That soaring, and soaring, still soaring doth sing, Horror and madness, Give way to gladness And cherubic strain! Joy! O Joy! then as Winter must go, Spring must be coming for poor souls below! |