Classic Poem

XI.

All things were holy and dear to his mind,
All things, — except the hot heart of his kind,
And that seemed a flower in a withered hood,
Which the cold spring cankered within the bud.

XII.

The wrongs of the peasant, the woes of the peer,
Ne'er wrung from the prince a true sigh or a tear;
The strife of his fellows seemed heartlessly bright,
Like the laurels in winter in cold moonlight.

XIII.

He cared for no sympathy, living in throngs
Of his own sunny thoughts, and his mute inward songs;
And if in the sunset his spirit was weary,
Sleep was hard by him, young health's sanctuary.

XIV.

'Twould not have been so had he e'er known his mother,
Or had had, save the green earth, a playmate and brother;
For deep in his heart a most wonderful power
Of loving lay hid, like an unopened flower.

XV.

Ah! luckless it is when a spirit is haunted
By all kindly powers, but attractions are wanted,
Life's outward attractions, by calm, pensive law,
Love, sorrow, and pity, from shy hearts to draw!

XVI.

Yet mid all the natural forms of delight,
Whose footfalls stole round him by day or by night,
He was pure as the white lily's dew-beaded cup,
Which, bold because stainless, to heaven looks up.

XVII.

His mind was a fair desert temple of beauty,
Unshaded by sorrow, unhallowed by duty;
A dream in a garden, a midsummer bliss
Was the youth, the bright youth, of Prince Amadis.

XVIII.

Prince Amadis lay in the chestnut shade
Where the flickering light through the green leaves played,
And the summer lake, with its blue heart throbbing,
Chafed the white sand with a reedy sobbing.

XIX.

He saw not the hills through his half-closed eye,
But their presence was felt like a spirit nigh;
To the spell of the noon-tide he gave himself up,
And his heart overflowed like wine in a cup.

XX.

He smiled at the silence that stole o'er the day,
While the singing birds slumbered upon the spray,
Till moss-scented airs o'er the green sward did creep,
And tremulous mallow-leaves fanned him asleep.