THOUGHTS.

I am glad when men of genius

Array a common thought,

In imperishable beauty

That it cannot be forgot.

The heart thoughts all bright and burnished

By high poetic art,

As sweet as the wood-bird's warble

Touching the very heart.

Have not I, poor workday mortal,

Some thoughts of living light,

In the spirit's inner chambers,

Moving with spirit might?

And they come in the fair spring time

Of heart and life and year,

When sweet Nature's wild rejoicings,

Draws votaries very near

To the heart of all that's lovely

On earth and in the sky;

Making audible the music

Of the inner melody.

Underlying all the sunshine,

Whispering through every breeze,

As it crests the ruffled ocean

Or sways the forest trees.

Bright thoughts that are heart prisoners

Vibrating on its chords,

For, alas! I have not genius

To bring them forth in words.

But full oft, like friendship's greeting

Upon life's weary way,

Do I meet in other's language

What I most wished to say.

To such words my bosom echoes,

I feel they are my own,

They bright echo of my day dreams,

That else were ever flown.

Ah to think, ye men of genius,

What joy your art affords,

Giving to the thoughts of millions

The dress of glowing words!

And a blessing on these words then

To bear them far and free;

That they glad the hearts of many

As they have gladdened me.