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THREE SONNETS TO THE AUTHOR OF ION. (3) - Druckversion

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THREE SONNETS TO THE AUTHOR OF ION. (3) - ZaunköniG - 06.05.2022

THREE SONNETS TO THE AUTHOR OF ION.

                                    I.

I could not come-to shed a man's rare tears
  With those who honour'd, and who lov'd, thy play ;
My heart said " yes,” but my poor health said " nay,”
Sharp-pain'd of side, and weak' with household fears :

Yet I was with thee,-saw thine high compeers,
Wordsworth and Landor,—saw the pil'd array,
The many-visag'd heart, looking one way,
Come to drink beauteous truth at eyes and ears.

Now, said I to myself, the scenes arise ;
Now comes the sweet of name,* whom great love sunders
From love itself; now, now he gives the skies

The heart they gave (sweet thought 'gainst bitter wonders !)
And ever and ayo, hands, strong with tear-thrill'd eyes,
Snapping the silence, burst in crashing thunders.


                              II.

Yes, I beheld the old accustom d sight,
Pit, boxes, galleries ; I was at “the play;"
  I saw uprise the stage's strange floor-day,
And music tuning as in tune's despite;

Childhood I saw, glad-faced, that squeezeth tight
One's hand, while the rapt curtain soars away,
  And beauty and age, and all that piled array-
Thousands of souls drawn to one wise delight.

A noble spectacle !-Noble in mirth-
Nobler in sacred fellowship of tears !
I've often thought what sight we have on earth,

  Worthy the fancying of our fellow spheres ;
And this is one-whole hosts in love with worth,
Judging the shapes of their own hopes and fears.


                            III.

Fine age is ours, and marvellous-setting free
Hopes that were bending into grey despairs,
Winnowing iron like chaff , outspeeding the airs,
Conquering with smoky flag the winds at sea,

Flinging with thunderous wheels immeasurably,
Knowledge, like daily light: so that man stares
  Planet-struck with his work-day world, nor dares
Repeat the old babble of what “ shall never be."

A great, good age !-Greatest and best in this,-
  That it strikes dumb the old anti-creeds, which parted
Man from the child-prosperity from the bliss

Of faith in good-and toil of wealth unthwarted
From leisure crown'd with bay, such as thine is,
Talfourd ! a lawyer prosperous and young-hearted.



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