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POEMS OF WORDSWORTH

IF thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven,
Then, to the measure of that heaven-born light,
Shine, poet! in thy place, and be content :
The stars pre-eminent in magnitude,

And they that from the zenith dart their beams,

(Visible though they be to half the earth,

Though half a sphere be conscious of their brightness)

Are yet of no diviner origin,

No purer essence, than the one that burns,

Like an untended watch-fire, on the ridge

Of some dark mountain; or than those which seem
Humbly to hang, like twinkling winter lamps
Among the branches of the leafless trees;
All are the undying offspring of one sire:
Then, to the measure of the light vouchsafed,
Shine, poet in thy place, and be content.