And now in age[99] I bud again;
After so many deaths I live and write;
I once more smell the dew and rain,
And relish versing. O my only light,
It cannot be
That I am he
On whom thy tempests fell all night!
Again:
Some may dream merrily, but when they wake
They dress themselves and come to thee.
He has an exquisite feeling of lyrical art. Not only does he keep to one
idea in it, but he finishes the poem like a cameo. Here is an instance
wherein he outdoes the elaboration of a Norman trouvere; for not merely
does each line in each stanza end with the same sound as the
corresponding line in every other stanza, but it ends with the very same
word. I shall hardly care to defend this if my reader chooses to call it
a whim; but I do say that a large degree of the peculiar musical effect
of the poem--subservient to the thought, keeping it dimly chiming in the
head until it breaks out clear and triumphant like a silver bell in the
last--is owing to this use of the same column of words at the line-ends
of every stanza. Let him who doubts it, read the poem aloud.
AARON.
Holiness on the head;
Light and perfections on the breast;
Harmonious bells below, raising the dead,
To lead them unto life and rest--
Thus are true Aarons drest.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194