Classic Poem

I.

A BOOK ? A solemn Temple of the Mind,
Dim with sweet smoke, where by the altar dwells
Music, sole priestess; she who in sad shells
Murmurs the rune God whispered to the wind
Breathed from His throne, which stars and spirit impels.

II.

What sage dreams in this vestibule of heaven?
Seer, mystic, saint, — or wandering Earth's lost child.
Babbling quaint heresies whereat God smiled
Ere Peter wept, or the thief died forgiven:
Old faith with elder fears half-reconciled?

III.

Rich-voiced Chaldean, whose majestic speech,
" Far above singing, " wakes the inward ear,
And haunts, with ancient anthems grave and clear,
The heart's grey cloister, thy ecstatic reach
Drew some rare splendour from the empyreal sphere.

IV.

Ah! might one grow the Titian of a thought,
The Handel of a soul's most deep desire,
In words like thine, whose golden wings aspire,
Till, purged and flaming in the sun they sought,
They " live immortal in the arms of fire. "