THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL PRELUDE TO PART FIRST OVER his keys the musing organist, And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay°: Not only around our infancy Doth heaven with all its splendors lie; Over our manhood bend the skies; The great winds utter prophecies°; With our faint hearts the mountain strives, Its arms outstretched, the druid wood Waits with its benedicite°; And to our age's drowsy blood Still shouts the inspiring sea. Earth gets its price for what Earth gives us°; At the devil's booth are all things sold, For a cap and bells our lives we pay, Bubbles we buy with a whole soul's tasking: "Tis heaven alone that is given away, "Tis only God may be had for the asking"; No price is set on the lavish summer; June may be had by the poorest comer. And what is so rare as a day in June°? 30 An instinct within it that reaches and towers, 40 And, groping blindly above it for light, Thrilling back over hills and valleys; The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; Now is the high-tide" of the year, And whatever of life hath ebbed away Into every bare inlet and creek and bay; 60 'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green; The breeze comes whispering in our ear, 70 That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing, That the river is bluer than the sky, That the robino is plastering his house hard by; We could guess it all by yon heifer's lowing, – Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how; Every thing is upward striving; "Tis as easy now for the heart to be true Who knows whither the clouds have fled? In the unscarred heaven they leave no wake; And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, And the sulphurous rifts of passion and woe PART FIRST I "My golden spurs now bring to me, Shall never a bed for me be spread, Here on the rushes" will I sleep, And perchance there may come a vision true Ere day create the world anew." Slowly Sir Launfal's eyes grew dim, Slumber fell like a cloud on him, And into his soul the vision flew.° |