If to embody in a breathing word Tones that the spirit trembled when it heard; The deathless garland and the sacred name; So every grace that plastic language knows The rough-hewn words to simplest thoughts confined OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. THE HUMBLER POETS. PART I. Of Poets and Poetry. AN INVOCATION TO POESY. STAY with me, Poesy! playmate of childhood! Stay with me, comfort me, now more than ever, Stay with me, lend me thy magical mirror, Show me to-day's little triumph of Error Foiled by to-morrow's great triumph of Right! |