INSCRIPTIONS

Poet, a truce to your song!

Have you heard the heart sing?

Like a brook among trees,

Like the humming of bees,

Like the ripple of wine:

Had you heard, would you stay

Blowing bubbles so long?

You have ears for the spheres —

Have you heard the heart sing?

Have you loved the good books of the world,—

And written none?

Have you loved the great poet,—

And burnt your little rhyme?

‘ O be my friend, and teach me to be thine.’

By many hands the work of God is done,

Swart toil, pale thought, flushed dream, he spurneth none:

Yea! and the weaver of a little rhyme

Is seen his worker in his own full time.