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Untitled Article
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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SONNETS .
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BY THOMAS WADE , I . —THE " POETRY OF EARTH . " " The Poetry of Earth is never dead , " Even in the cluster ed haunts of plodding men .
Before a door in citied underground , Lies a man-loving , faith-expression'd hound—To pastoral hills forth sending us ; to den Of daring bandit ; and to regions dread Of mountain-snows , where others of its kind Tend upon man ' s , as with a human mind :
A golden beetle on the dusty steps Crawls , of a wayside-plying vehicle , Where wending men swarm thick and gloomily—We gaze ; and see beneath the ripening sky The harvest glisten ; and that creature creeps Upon the sunny corn , radiantly visible !
II . —THE SERE OAK-LEAVES . Why do ye rustle in this vernal wind , Sere Leaves ! shaking a drear prophetic shroud ' Over the very cradle of the Spring ? Like pertinacious Age , with warnings loud , Dinning the grave into an infant ' s mind , And shadowing death on life ' s first imaging !
Why to these teeming branches do ye cling , And with your argument renascence cloud ; Whilst every creature of new birth is proud , And in unstain'd existence revelling ? Fall , and a grave within the centre find ! And do not thus , whilst all the sweet birds sing , The insects glitter , and the flower'd grass waves , Blight us with thoughts of winter and our graves !
III . —THE SWAN-AVIARY . A thousand swans are o ' er the waters sailing , And others in the reeds and rushes brood , And some are flying o ' er the sunny flood ; And all move with a grandeur so prevailing , That long we stand without a breath-inhaling , In admiration of their multitude , And the majestic grace with which endued
They float upon the waves , their pride regaling . The sky is blue and golden ; clear as glass , The sea sweeps richly on the glowing shingle ; All vernal hues in the near woods commingle ; And exquisite beauty waves along the grass ; But these things seem but humbly tributary To the white pomp of that vast aviary I
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Sept. 1, 1837, page 204, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1835/page/60/
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