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قراءة كتاب Our Profession and Other Poems
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 6
href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@19443@[email protected]#TO_A_MOUNTAIN_BROOK" class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">To a Mountain Brook
INVOCATION TO THE MUSE.
Didactic muse Calliope,
Expand thy soothing silent wings,
Touch chords of measured harmony
Wherein the soul ecstatic sings,
Let language fraught with living truth
Find such expression by thy art,
As shall assist the guides of youth
To fire the soul and win the heart.
Expand thy soothing silent wings,
Touch chords of measured harmony
Wherein the soul ecstatic sings,
Let language fraught with living truth
Find such expression by thy art,
As shall assist the guides of youth
To fire the soul and win the heart.
Remove the barriers which so long
Have held in thraldom many a mind,
Sing to the deaf a ransom-song,
Be eyes to those whose souls are blind;
Teach those who mould the plastic mind
To know that God hath never given
A mission weightier, more refined,
To angels round the courts of heaven,
Than that of training human minds
Committed unto human hands,
In which the spirit e'er survives
And through eternity expands.
Have held in thraldom many a mind,
Sing to the deaf a ransom-song,
Be eyes to those whose souls are blind;
Teach those who mould the plastic mind
To know that God hath never given
A mission weightier, more refined,
To angels round the courts of heaven,
Than that of training human minds
Committed unto human hands,
In which the spirit e'er survives
And through eternity expands.
Paint truthfully the living dead
Whose sensibilities were slain
By tyros, oft unskilled, unread,
In all the workings of the brain;
Whose concepts of the avenues
That reach the mind of tender youth,
Are labyrinths of tangled views
Devoid of art, science, and truth;
Touch but that chord of magic power
Which gives the soul augmented bliss,
And lifts it for the present hour
Above the world's base selfishness;
Then let the search-light of the soul
Illumine every page that's read,
Until an animated whole
Shall supersede the living dead.
Whose sensibilities were slain
By tyros, oft unskilled, unread,
In all the workings of the brain;
Whose concepts of the avenues
That reach the mind of tender youth,
Are labyrinths of tangled views
Devoid of art, science, and truth;
Touch but that chord of magic power
Which gives the soul augmented bliss,
And lifts it for the present hour
Above the world's base selfishness;
Then let the search-light of the soul
Illumine every page that's read,
Until an animated whole
Shall supersede the living dead.
OUR PROFESSION.
There's an art in our profession,
Which cannot be wholly learned
From all books in our possession,
Though their leaves be deftly turned
Till the mind shall grasp the meaning
Of each truth they may contain,
Yet there remains a gleaning
Not a product of the brain.
Which cannot be wholly learned
From all books in our possession,
Though their leaves be deftly turned
Till the mind shall grasp the meaning
Of each truth they may contain,
Yet there remains a gleaning
Not a product of the brain.
One may know the truths of science
Till his mind may have full store,
Or may place some great reliance
On ancient and modern lore;
He may count the stars in heaven,
He may trace them in their course,
And from data that is given
He may prove creation's source;
He may use the best of diction
To portray his studied thought;
He may draw from truth and fiction
All the charm with which they're fraught;
He may be a friend of Nature
And may understand her laws;
He may prove embryo creature
Has within itself a "cause";
He may fathom all creation
And dwell among the stars,
Visit every land and nation
And return with honor's scars;
Yet he may lack a power,—
Occult to scientific truth—
Which is Heaven's richest dower
To the guides of ardent youth.
Till his mind may have full store,
Or may place some great reliance
On ancient and modern lore;
He may count the stars in heaven,
He may trace them in their course,
And from data that is given
He may prove creation's source;
He may use the best of diction
To portray his studied thought;
He may draw from truth and fiction
All the charm with which they're fraught;
He may be a friend of Nature
And may understand her laws;
He may prove embryo creature
Has within itself a "cause";
He may fathom all creation
And dwell among the stars,
Visit every land and nation
And return with honor's scars;
Yet he may lack a power,—
Occult to scientific truth—
Which is Heaven's richest dower
To the guides of ardent youth.
Though all these may give a polish
To the gem that lights the soul,
To the gem that lights the soul,