Thomas Wade (1805–1875)

HOLY and mighty Poet of the spirit

That broods and breathes along the universe!

In the least portion of whose starry verse

Is the great breath the spheréd heavens inherit—

No human song is eloquent as thine;

For, by a reasoning instinct all divine,

Thou feel’st it the soul of things; and thereof singing,

With all the madness of a skylark, springing

From earth to heaven, the intenseness of thy strain,

Like the lark’s music, all around is ringing,

Laps us in God’s own heart, and we regain

Our primal life ethereal! Men profane

Blaspheme thee; I have heard thee dreamer styled—

I ’ve mused upon this wakefulness—and smiled.