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.