| THE ELDER WORTHIES. | 33 |
|
LIFT up your heads, ye Gates; and ye everlasting Portals,
Be ye lift up! Behold the Worthies are there to receive him,
They who in later days, or in elder ages ennobled
Britain’s dear name. Bede I beheld, who, humble and holy,
Shone like a single star, serene in a night of darkness.
Struck the spark from which the Bohemian kindled his taper;
Thence the flame, long and hardly preserved, was to Luther transmitted,
Mighty soul, and he lifted his torch, and enlighten’d the nations.
|
|
Thee too, Father Chaucer! I saw, and
delighted to see thee,
At whose well undefiled I drank in my youth, and was strengthen’d;
With whose mind immortal so oft I have communed, partaking
All its manifold moods, and willingly moved at its pleasure.
|
| 34 | THE ELDER WORTHIES. |
|
Bearing the palm of martyrdom, Cranmer was there in
his meekness,
Holy name to be ever revered! And Cecil, whose wisdom
’Stablish’d the Church and State, Eliza’s pillar of council.
And Shakespeare, who in our hearts for himself hath
erected an empire
Not to be shaken by Time, nor e’er by another divided.
But with what love did I then behold the face of my master, ..
Spenser, my master dear! with whom in boyhood I
wander’d
Thro’ the regions of Faery land, in forest or garden
Spending delicious hours, or at tilt and tourney rejoicing;
Yea, by the magic of verse enlarged, and translated in spirit,
In the World of Romance free denizen I; ... till awakening,
When the spell was dissolved, this real earth and its uses
Seem’d to me weary, and stale, and flat.
|
|
With other emotion
Milton’s severer shade I saw, and in reverence
humbled
Gazed on that soul sublime: of passion now as of blindness
Heal’d, and no longer here to Kings and to Hierarchs hostile,
He was assoil’d from taint of the fatal fruit; and in Eden
|
| THE ELDER WORTHIES. | 35 |
|
Not again to be lost, consorted an equal with Angels.
Taylor too was there, from whose mind of its
treasures redundant
Streams of eloquence flow’d, like an inexhaustible fountain:
And the victor of Blenheim, alike in all virtues
accomplish’d,
Public or private, he; the perfect soldier and statesman,
England’s reproach and her pride; her pride for his noble achievements,
Her reproach for the wrongs he endured: And Newton,
exalted
There above those orbs whose motions from earth he had measured,
Thro’ infinity ranging in thought: And Berkeley, angelic
Now in substance as soul, that kingdom enjoying where all things
Are what they seem, and the good and the beautiful there are eternal.
|
| ≪ PREV | NEXT ≫ |
