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On His Birthday, 27th February, 1867
I NEED not praise the sweetness of his song, | |
| Where limpid verse to limpid verse succeeds | |
| Smooth as our Charles, when, fearing lest he wrong | |
| The new moon’s mirrored skiff, he slides along, | |
| Full without noise, and whispers in his reeds. | 5 |
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| With loving breath of all the winds his name | |
| Is blown about the world, but to his friends | |
| A sweeter secret hides behind his fame, | |
| And Love steals shyly through the loud acclaim | |
| To murmur a God bless you! and there ends. | 10 |
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| As I muse backward up the checkered years, | |
| Wherein so much was given, so much was lost, | |
| Blessings in both kinds, such as cheapen tears— | |
| But hush! this is not for profaner ears; | |
| Let them drink molten pearls nor dream the cost. | 15 |
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| Some suck up poison from a sorrow’s core, | |
| As naught but nightshade grew upon earth’s ground; | |
| Love turned all his to heart’s-ease, and the more | |
| Fate tried his bastions, she but forced a door, | |
| Leading to sweeter manhood and more sound. | 20 |
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| Even as a wind-waved fountain’s swaying shade | |
| Seems of mixed race, a gray wraith shot with sun, | |
| So through his trial faith translucent rayed, | |
| Till darkness, half disnatured so, betrayed | |
| A heart of sunshine that would fain o’errun. | 25 |
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| Surely if skill in song the shears may stay, | |
| And of its purpose cheat the charmed abyss, | |
| If our poor life be lengthened by a lay, | |
| He shall not go, although his presence may, | |
| And the next age in praise shall double this. | 30 |
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| Long days be his, and each as lusty-sweet | |
| As gracious natures find his song to be; | |
| May Age steal on with softly cadenced feet | |
| Falling in music, as for him were meet | |
| Whose choicest verse is harsher-toned than he. | 35 |
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