To An Enthusiast

Young ardent soul, graced with fair Nature's truth,

Spring warmth of heart, and fervency of mind,

And still a large late love of all thy kind.

Spite of the world's cold practice and Time's tooth,— For all these gifts,

I know not, in fair sooth,

Whether to give thee joy, or bid thee blind Thine eyes with tears,—that thou hast not resign'd The passionate fire and freshness of thy youth:

For as the current of thy life shall flow,

Gilded by shine of sun or shadow-stain'd,

Through flow'ry valley or unwholesome fen,

Thrice blessed in thy joy, or in thy woe Thrice cursed of thy race,—thou art ordain'd To share beyond the lot of common men.