On A Portrait Of Wordsworth By B. R. Haydon


    Wordsworth upon Helvellyn! Let the cloud
    Ebb audibly along the mountain-wind,
    Then break against the rock, and show behind
    The lowland valleys floating up to crowd
    The sense with beauty. He with forehead bowed
    And humble-lidded eyes, as one inclined
    Before the sovran thought of his own mind,
    And very meek with inspirations proud,
    Takes here his rightful place as poet-priest
    By the high altar, singing prayer and prayer
    To the higher Heavens. A noble vision free
    Our Haydon's hand has flung out from the mist:
    No portrait this, with Academic air!
    This is the poet and his poetry.


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