On A Portrait Of Wordsworth

WORDSWORTH upon Helvellyn ! Let the cloud

Ebb audibly along the mountain-wind,

Then break against the rock, and show behind

The lowland valleys floating up to crowd

The sense with beauty. He with forehead bowed

And humble-lidded eyes, as one inclined

Before the sovran thought of his own mind,

And very meek with inspirations proud,

Takes here his rightful place as poet-priest

By the high altar, singing prayer and prayer

To the higher Heavens. A noble vision free

Our Haydon's hand has flung out from the mist:

No portrait this, with Academic air !

This is the poet and his poetry.