FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162  
163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170   171   172   173   174   175   176   177   178   179   180   181   182   183   184   185   186   187   >>   >|  
ocean, when the stormy winds are hushed, Still rolls and thunders through his billowy caves. Let me retrace the record of the years That made me what I am. A man most wise, But overworn with toil and bent with age, Sought me to be his scholar,--me, run wild From books and teachers,--kindled in my soul The love of knowledge; led me to his tower, Showed me the wonders of the midnight realm His hollow sceptre ruled, or seemed to rule, Taught me the mighty secrets of the spheres, Trained me to find the glimmering specks of light Beyond the unaided sense, and on my chart To string them one by one, in order due, As on a rosary a saint his beads. I was his only scholar; I became The echo to his thought; whate'er he knew Was mine for asking; so from year to year We wrought together, till there came a time When I, the learner, was the master half Of the twinned being in the dome-crowned tower. Minds roll in paths like planets; they revolve This in a larger, that a narrower ring, But round they come at last to that same phase, That self-same light and shade they showed before. I learned his annual and his monthly tale, His weekly axiom and his daily phrase, I felt them coming in the laden air, And watched them laboring up to vocal breath, Even as the first-born at his father's board Knows ere he speaks the too familiar jest Is on its way, by some mysterious sign Forewarned, the click before the striking bell. He shrivelled as I spread my growing leaves, Till trust and reverence changed to pitying care; He lived for me in what he once had been, But I for him, a shadow, a defence, The guardian of his fame, his guide, his staff, Leaned on so long he fell if left alone. I was his eye, his ear, his cunning hand, Love was my spur and longing after fame, But his the goading thorn of sleepless age That sees its shortening span, its lengthening shades, That clutches what it may with eager grasp, And drops at last with empty, outstretched hands. All this he dreamed not. He would sit him down Thinking to work his problems as of old, And find the star he thought so plain a blur, The columned figures labyrinthine wilds Without my comment, blind and senseless scrawls That v
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162  
163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170   171   172   173   174   175   176   177   178   179   180   181   182   183   184   185   186   187   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
thought
 

scholar

 

mysterious

 

Forewarned

 

figures

 
speaks
 
familiar
 

striking

 
growing
 

leaves


spread

 

columned

 
shrivelled
 

watched

 
scrawls
 

senseless

 
comment
 
phrase
 

coming

 

laboring


labyrinthine

 

father

 

reverence

 

breath

 

Without

 

changed

 

longing

 

goading

 

cunning

 

sleepless


clutches

 
shades
 

shortening

 

lengthening

 

outstretched

 
Thinking
 

shadow

 
pitying
 

Leaned

 
defence

guardian
 

dreamed

 
problems
 
knowledge
 

Showed

 

wonders

 
midnight
 

teachers

 
kindled
 

hollow