The Poet of Nature

From “Festus” HE had no times of study, and no place; All places and all times to him were one. His soul was like the wind-harp, which he loved, And sounded only when the spirit blew, Sometime in feasts and follies, for he went Lifelike through all things; and his thoughts then rose Like sparkles in the bright wine, brighter still; Sometimes in dreams, and then the shining words Would wake him in the dark before his face. All things talked thoughts to him. The sea went mad To show his meaning; and the awful sun Thundered his thoughts into him; and at night The stars would whisper theirs, the moon sigh hers.

Collection: 
English
1836
Philip James Bailey
Sub Title: 
Poems of Sentiment: IV. Thought: Poetry: Books

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