GeniusA sky-lark in a bygone day
Mounted the sky
Singing its long familiar lay,
And passing by
Went men and women up and down
With hearts unstirred.
Theirs was the business of the town--
But Shelley heard.
The air had borne those liquid notes
For ages long;
From countless million golden throats
Had poured that song,
And still the people sold and bought
And toiled for fame.
'Tis but a bird that sings, they thought,
Till Shelley came.
Enraptured by that lovely thing
And touched with pain,
With every nerve set quivering
Like leaves in rain,
He stood the while the twilight rang
With chords divine,
And caught the song the skylark sang
In deathless line.
Who knows what beauty and what grace
Are hidden still,
Buried among the commonplace
Of mart and mill,
Waiting with patience through the years,
As did the lark,
Until the genius appears
Their charms to mark?
(Edgar A. Guest)
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