  The poet is the child of God, Who with anointed eye Discerns a sacrament of love In earth and sea and sky, And finds himself at love's behest Constrained to prophesy. Love is of loveliness the root, Love is of life the spring, Of every lovely thing: This is the burden of his song, Well may the poet sing! A joy-inspirÈd song he sings Because far off he hears A whisper silencing the storm, A laughter through the tears, The music of eternity Beyond the dying years. His song is rapture, for he sees God's loveliness, and we, Shall share his ecstasy; Oh, come the day when all shall sing As blithe a song as he! Lord Christ, Thou art the King of Love, Thou art the Poet true; The men who would Thy vision share Must learn Thy works to do, All, all shall have the singing heart Whose feet Thy steps pursue! Pitz Ortler: 1882. |
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