On a Portrait of Wordsworth
WORDSWORTH upon Helvellyn ! Let the cloudEbb audibly along the mountain-wind,Then break against the rock, and show behindThe lowland valleys floating up to crowdThe sense with beauty. He with forehead bowedAnd humble-lidded eyes, as one inclinedBefore the sovran thought of his own mind,And very meek with inspirations proud,Takes here his rightful place as poet-priestBy the high altar, singing prayer and prayer
To the higher Heavens. A noble vision freeOur Haydon's hand has flung out from the mist:No portrait this, with Academic air !This is the poet and his poetry.
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