Thoughts.

I am glad when men of genius         Array a common thought,     In imperishable beauty         That it cannot be forgot.     The heart thoughts all bright and burnished         By high poetic art,     As sweet as the wood-bird's warble         Touching the very heart.     Have not I, poor workday mortal,         Some thoughts of living light,     In the spirit's inner chambers,         Moving with spirit might?     And they come in the fair spring time         Of heart and life and year,     When sweet Nature's wild rejoicings,         Draws votaries very near     To the heart of all that's lovely         On earth and in the sky;     Making audible the music         Of the inner melody.     Underlying all the sunshine,         Whispering through every breeze,     As it crests the ruffled ocean         Or sways the forest trees.     Bright thoughts that are heart prisoners         Vibrating on its chords,     For, alas! I have not genius         To bring them forth in words.     But full oft, like friendship's greeting         Upon life's weary way,     Do I meet in other's language         What I most wished to say.     To such words my bosom echoes,         I feel they are my own,     They bright echo of my day dreams,         That else were ever flown.     Ah to think, ye men of genius,         What joy your art affords,     Giving to the thoughts of millions         The dress of glowing words!     And a blessing on these words then         To bear them far and free;     That they glad the hearts of many         As they have gladdened me.