Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/329

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ON MILTON'S BLINDNESS.
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Rills o'er rocky beds are borne, Ere they gush in whiteness;Pebbles are wave-chafed and worn, Ere they show their brightness.
Sweetest gleam the morning flowers, When in tears they waken;Earth enjoys refreshing showers, When the boughs are shaken.
Ceylon's glistening pearls are sought In its deepest waters;From the darkest mines are brought Gems for Beauty's daughters.
Through the rent and shivered rock Limpid water breaketh;'Tis but when the chords are struck That their music waketh.
Flowers by heedless footsteps pressed All their sweets surrender;Gold must brook the fiery test Ere it show its splendour.
When the twilight, cold and damp, Gloom and silence bringeth;Then the glowworm lights its lamp, And the night-bird singeth.
Stars come forth when Night her shroud Draws as daylight fainteth;Only on the tearful cloud God his rainbow painteth.
Weep not then for poet's wrong, Mourn not his mischances;Sorrow is the source of song And of gentle fancies.
On Milton's Blindness.
      I am old and blind!Men point at me as smitten by God's frown;Afflicted and deserted of my kind;      Yet I am not cast down.
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