The Nevada Democrat., 1859-10-05
THE SINGER.
.n.. o.- .milirht foil

A star into our twilight len,
- ,MonQ peasant homes In wales remoiei
Men marvelled not till all the dell
Was walked as by bugle-note
They wondered at the wildeyed boy,
And drank his song like draughts OF winej
And vet amid their newborn JOY,
They bade him tend the herds and sWine'
But he knew neither swine nor herds
His shepherd soul was Otherwherei i' ~
The aocks he tended were the birds, ..tS ~
And stars that fll the folds fair
To sweeter song the wind would melt
That famed him with It's perfumed wing
Flowers thronoed his path as If they felt
The warm and flashing feet Of Spring
Tbe brooklet flung It's ringlets wide,
And leapt 10 him, aud kept his pace
sang when he sang, and when he sighed,
Turned up TO him Its starry face.
Through many dawn and noon and night,
The singing boy still kept bis course;
For IN his heart that meteor light
"a stll burned with all Its natal force. ttr
He sano.-nor cherished thought Of care
As when, upon the garden-yine,
Iue-bird thrills the April air,
Regardless Of the herds and swine.
The children in their May.time plays,
The maidens 10 their rosy hours,
And matrons in their autumn days,
All heard and flung him praise or flowers.
And Are. 10 chimney-nooks beguiled,
Caught the sweet music's tender closes,
And. gazing on the embers, smiled
As on bed Of summer roses.
And many heart, by hope forsook,
Received his song through depths OF paint
As the dry channels Of a brook
The freshness Of summer rain, .rsrs
But when he looked for house or bread,
The stewards of earth's oil and wine
Shook sternly the reproving head,
And bade him tend the herds and swine
He strayed into the harvest plains,
And mid the sultry windrows sung,
Till glowing girls and swarthy swains
Caught music from bis charmed tongue
Caught music that from heart TO brain
Went thrilling with delicious measure,
TIL toll, which late had seemed pain,
Became sweet Arcadan pleasure
The farmer, at the days decline,
Sat listening till the eve was late;
Then, Offering neither bread nor wine,
Arose and barred the outer gate,-
And said, "would you have where TO sleep
On wholesome straw good brother mine,
You need but plow, and SOW, and reap,
And daily tend the herds and swine"
The poets locks shook out reply;
He turned him gaily down the rill;
Yet left a light which shall not dle,
sunshine on the farmers sill.
He strewed the vale with flowers of song;
He filed the homes with lighter grace,
Which round those hearthstones fingered long,
And still makes beautiful the place.
The country hamlet, and the town
Grew wiser, better, for his songs
The roaring city could not drown
The voice that TO the world belongs.
To beds Of pain, 10 rooms Of death,
The soft and solemn music stolo,
And soothed the dying with It's breath,
And passed into the nourner's soul.
And yet what was the poets meedY
Such, Bard OF AlIoway, was thine
The soul that sings, the heart must bleed,
Or tend the common herds and swine.
The nation heard his patriot lays,
And rung them, like an anthem round, ,s
Till Freedom waved her branch of bays
Wherewth the world shall yet be crowned.
His war.songs fred the battle.host
His notices on their banners burned;
And when the foe had fed the coast
Wild with his songs the troops returned.
Then at the feast's trlumphal board
His thrilling music eheered the wine;--
But when tho singer asked reward,
They pointed to the herds and swine
"What no bardp Then bid him 20
And beg,-it Is tho poets trade
Dan Homer was the first to show
The rank for which the bards were made
IA living bard What's he to us2 t..rf
A bard, TO live, must FIRST be dead
And when he dies we may discuss
To whom belongs the poets head |"
Meath suns that burn, through storms that drench
He went, an outcast from his birth,
Still singing,--for they could not quonch
The fire that was not born Of earth.
At last behind cold prison bars,
BY colder natures uniorglven,
His trail dust starved but mid the stars
His spirit found Its native heaven.
Now, when moteorspark, forlorn,
Descends upon It's fiery wing,
sigh to think q soul Is born, ..
Perchance, TO suffer and to sing @
Its own heart consuming pyre
OF fame to brighten and reane;--
singer, In the starry choir, e..
That will not tend the herds and swine.
Atlantic Monthly.