The Soul's Quest and Other Poems

by Frederick George Scott

 

SHAKESPEARE

 
UNSEEN in the great minister dome of time,
    Whose shafts are centuries, its spangled roof
        The vaulted universe, our master sits,
And organ-voices like a far-off chime
        Roll thro’ the aisles of thought. The sunlight flits
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    From arch to arch, and, as he sits aloof,
Kings, heroes, priests, in concourse vast, sublime,
        Glances of love and cries from battle-field,
    His wizard power breathes on the living air.
Warm faces gleam and pass, child, woman, man,
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        In the long multitude; but he, concealed,
Our bard eludes us, vainly each face we scan,
    It is not he; his features are not there;
        But, being thus hid, his greatness is revealed.

1885.