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merlin. - Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson, vol. 9 (Poems) [1909]

Edition used:

The Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson, in 12 vols. Fireside Edition (Boston and New York, 1909).

Part of: The Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson, in 12 vols. (Fireside Edition).

About Liberty Fund:

Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.


merlin.

i.

    • Thy trivial harp will never please
    • Or fill my craving ear;
    • Its chords should ring as blows the breeze,
    • Free, peremptory, clear.
    • No jingling serenader's art,
    • Nor tinkle of piano strings,
    • Can make the wild blood start
    • In its mystic springs.
    • The kingly bard
    • Must smite the chords rudely and hard.
    • As with hammer or with mace;
    • That they may render back
    • Artful thunder, which conveys
    • Secrets of the solar track,
    • Sparks of the supersolar blaze.
    • Merlin's blows are strokes of fate,
    • Chiming with the forest tone,
    • When boughs buffet boughs in the wood;
    • Chiming with the gasp and moan
    • Of the ice-imprisoned flood;
    • With the pulse of manly hearts;
    • With the voice of orators;
    • With the din of city arts;
    • With the cannonade of wars;
    • With the marches of the brave;
    • And prayers of might from martyrs' cave.
    • Great is the art,
    • Great be the manners, of the bard.
    • He shall not his brain encumber
    • With the coil of rhythm and number;
    • But, leaving rule and pale forethought,
    • He shall aye climb
    • For his rhyme.
    • ‘Pass in, pass in,’ the angels say,
    • ‘In to the upper doors,
    • Nor count compartments of the floors,
    • But mount to paradise
    • By the stairway of surprise.’
    • Blameless master of the games,
    • King of sport that never shames,
    • He shall daily joy dispense
    • Hid in song's sweet influence.
    • Forms more cheerly live and go,
    • What time the subtle mind
    • Sings aloud the tune whereto
    • Their pulses beat,
    • And march their feet,
    • And their members are combined.
    • By Sybarites beguiled,
    • He shall no task decline;
    • Merlin's mighty line
    • Extremes of nature reconciled,—
    • Bereaved a tyrant of his will,
    • And made the lion mild.
    • Songs can the tempest still,
    • Scattered on the stormy air,
    • Mould the year to fair increase,
    • And bring in poetic peace.
    • He shall not seek to weave,
    • In weak, unhappy times,
    • Efficacious rhymes;
    • Wait his returning strength.
    • Bird that from the nadir's floor
    • To the zenith's top can soar,—
    • The soaring orbit of the muse exceeds that journey's length.
    • Nor profane affect to hit
    • Or compass that, by meddling wit,
    • Which only the propitious mind
    • Publishes when 't is inclined.
    • There are open hours
    • When the God's will sallies free,
    • And the dull idiot might see
    • The flowing fortunes of a thousand years;—
    • Sudden, at unawares,
    • Self-moved, fly-to the doors,
    • Nor sword of angels could reveal
    • What they conceal.