Poem by James Russell Lowell

* * *

  Poet! who sittest in thy pleasant room,
  Warming thy heart with idle thoughts of love,
  And of a holy life that leads above,
  Striving to keep life's spring-flowers still in bloom,
  And lingering to snuff their fresh perfume--
  O, there were other duties meant for thee,
  Than to sit down in peacefulness and Be!
  O, there are brother-hearts that dwell in gloom,
  Souls loathsome, foul, and black with daily sin,
  So crusted o'er with baseness, that no ray
  Of heaven's blessed light may enter in!
  Come down, then, to the hot and dusty way,
  And lead them back to hope and peace again--
  For, save in Act, thy Love is all in vain.

1. To the Dark, Narrow House Where Loved Ones Go
2. I Fain Would Give to Thee the Loveliest Things
3. Much I Had Mused of Love, and in My Soul
4. “No More But So?”
5. Sayest Thou, Most Beautiful, That Thou Wilt Wear

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