I
A FATHER -for he bore that sacred name
Him saw I ,sitting in an open square,
Upon a corner-stone of that low wall,where in were fixed the iron pales that fenced
A spacious grass-plot;there ,in silence,state
This One Man,with a sicky babe outstretched
Upon his knee,whom he had thither brought
For sunshine,and to breathe the fresher air.
Of those who passed,and me who looked at him
He took no heed;but in his braway arms
(The Artificer was to the elbow bare,
And from his work this moment had been stolen)
He held the child,and bending over it,
As if he were afraid both of the sun
And of the air,which he had to come to seek,
Eyed the poor babe with love unutterable.
II
Amid the moving pageant,I was smitten
Abruptly,with the view(a sight not rare)
Of a blind Beggar,who with upright face,
Stood,propped against a wall ,upon his chest
Wearing a written paper,to explain
His story,whence he came,and who he was.
Caught by the spectacle my mind turned round
As with the might of waters;an apt type
This label seemed of the utmost we can know,
Both of ourselves and of the universe;
And ,on the shape of that unmoving man,
His steadfast face and sightless eyes,I gazed,
As if admonished from another world.
Through reared upon the base of outward things,
Structures like these the excited spirit mainly
Builds for herself;scenes different there are.
Full-formed,that take,with small internal help.
Possession of the faculties,the peace
That comes with night;the deep solemnity
Of nature's intermediate hours of rest,
when the great tide of human life stands still;
The business of the day to come,unborn,
Of that gone by,locked up,as in the grave;
The blended calmness of the heavens and earth,
Moonlight and stars,and empty streets ,and sounds
Unfrequent as in deserts.
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