THE TRIBUNE.

For the Nrw- ork I Tihune.
THE POETS RESOLVE.
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THE TRIBUNE.


Fur The New. York Tribune


THE POETS RESOLVE.
prcr csAsen.
Rsr the Spring leaves were on the Trees
o, ere the chill had left the breeze.
] late was wandering, i'll at ease,
Near e green city park, whose gates
Frowned on the poor, like turnpike rates.
Bu, oped TO lords Of rich estates
Through iron rails The dust and din
c,ur. vhirIing by, and sweeping In.
Mat;,e arrange discord with the green:
Bu, in the midst little bird,
JJoon q eaAess branch heard,
And straight my heart within me stirred.
said, Sweet bird, frs, voice OF Spring,
Like me. thou hast thy song to sing;
But scarce hast heart TO DO thing
SO all uniting place and time;
These dull, dead walls Of brick and lime.
And life within them, build no rhyme.
The world we make untunes the strisg
On which the poet fain would sing:
His voice is dumb, though il be Spring.
A world OF customary rust,
A thoroughfare of noise and dust,
Blown all about by every gust;
A harbor for insipid can't
Void wastes unknowing what they want
A service heartless all, and scant,
Brough, TO the shrine Of truth and good
Weak purposes half understood
Tame slavery TO every mood.
For tones of love, fault. finding sneers;
For courage, unavailing fears;
. For truth and beauty. asses ears
! And then the worldly grinding cares,
The pitfalls and the sugared snares
That catch our spirits unawares.
These clods defile with mud the fount
Whence clear poetic waters mount;
We have no visions 10 recount.
Hence grows the poet sleek and tame,
Fed on the worlds gross praise and blame,
III BC lOkClo lOl Wudt hC CdiICs
His eye is dull 10 heavenly light;
He hath no word Of lofty might:
Far better die than thus 10 write.'
Now while the bird sang out aloud,
passed from underneath this cloud,
And found purpose, noble, proud
will not, like these fettered broods
Ofpoets, speak from vulgar moods,
But court diyinest solitudes.
And though this life around be cold,
Tame, customary, sensual, old;
will at leas, be free and bold.
Like thee. sweet bird, amid the din
OF fcities, will yet begin


Music that springs from life within;
Thoughts that from deep intnitude
Come darling down with strength endued,
Shall flock around me any.hued.
Words of sincerity and truth;
Tones that will inly cheer and sooihc,
Persuasive as the smile of youth.
Not from the fashions Of my time
From Beauty's own fresh garden prime,
IN Gull the thoughts that fill my rhyme.
And these shall kindle quick. and spread
Responsive radiance round bis head,
Who feels that Poesy is not dead.
And thus shall work to issues fine,
Not from virtue thine or mine,
But because stepped in truth divine.
sprii 3th. 19%5.