SHAKSPEARE.
Reading edition
———
BY ERASTUS W. ELLSWORTH.
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What more extolling from the tongue of Fame
Can Shakspeare need than his suggested name;
Who, in a volume so compactly writ,
Has hived the honey of all human wit.
Praise suits where merit in a corner lies,
But seems uncomely to th’acknowledged wise—
Praise suits where laboring art at times succeeds,
And the shrewd reader pardons as he reads;
But fails—in wonder—where the leaves dispense
Infinite resource of intelligence—
Where the great player, at his game of chess,
Frolicks through all to glorious success;
Thrids, with exulting ken, a boundless maze,
Plays with his kings, and kings it in his plays.
Swan of the Avon—genius of the Thames,
“That so didst take Eliza and [king] James;”
Muse of so vast a flight, so ample pinion,
Whose name is as the name of a dominion!
Though kings be great, give glory to the pen,
A whole-souled poet is the king of men.
King and high-priest one bard, at least, has been
Lo! where we lesser Levites pause and quail.
How grandly goes before, within the vail,
Our great Melchisedek, without compeers,
Without progenitor nor end of years.