THREE SONNETS TO THE AUTHOR OF ION. 2

[ZaunköniG]

THREE SONNETS TO THE AUTHOR OF ION.

                              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.


.