Behold the man, who to the poet's fire Unites the painter's fascinating art; His touch embodies all that fancy brings To charm the mental vision, and he dives Into the rich and shadowy world of thought, Soars up to heaven, or plunges down to hell, In search of forms to mortal eyes unknown, To animate the canvass. His bold eye Confronts the king of terrors. Through the gates Of that dark prison-house of woe and dread Hails the infernal monarch on his throne, Crowned with ambition's diadem of fire.-- Unsatisfied with all that Nature gives To charm the wandering heart and roving eye, He would portray Omnipotence.--Rash man! Reason revolting shudders at the act.-- God is a Spirit without form or parts; And canst thou, from a human model, trace The awful grandeur of Creation's King? Nature supplies thee with no perfect draught Of human beauty in its sinless state. Man bears upon his brow the curse of guilt, The shadow of mortality, that marks, E'en in the sunny season of his youth, The melancholy sentence of decay.-- Is it from such the painter would depict The vision of Jehovah?--and from eyes, Dimmed with the tears of passion, woe, and pain, Seek to portray the dread all-seeing eye, Which at a momentary glance can read The inmost secrets of all hearts, and pierce The dark and fathomless abyss of night? Oh, drop the pencil!--Angels cannot gaze On Him who sits upon the jasper throne, Robed in the splendour of immortal light; But cast their crowns before him whilst they veil The brow in rapt devotion and adore!--
Nature will furnish subjects far beyond The grasp of human genius. Didst thou e'er, On mossy bank or grassy plot reclined, Watch the effect of sunlight on the boughs Of some tall graceful ash, or maple tree? Each leaf illumin'd by the noon-tide beam Transparent shines.--Anon a heavy cloud Floats for a moment o'er the car of day, And gloom descends upon the forest bowers; A ray steals forth--and on the topmost twig Falls, like a silver star. From leaf to leaf The glory spreads, shoots down the rugged trunk And gilds each spray, till the whole tree stands forth Arrayed in light.--This is beyond thy art. All thy enthusiasm, all thy boasted skill, But poorly imitates a forest tree.