Poems by Mary Baker Eddy 51
ISLE OF WIGHT
1 ON RECEIVING A PAINTING OF THE ISLE.
ISLE of beauty, thou art singing
3 To my sense a sweet refrain;
To my busy mem'ry bringing
Scenes that I would see again.
6 Chief, the charm of thy reflecting,
Is the moral that it brings;
Nature, with the mind connecting,
9 Gives the artist's fancy wings.
Soul, sublime 'mid human debris,
Paints the limner's work, I ween,
12 Art and Science, all unweary,
Lighting up this mortal dream.
Work ill-done within the misty
15 Mine of human thoughts, we see
Soon abandoned when the Master
Crowns life's Cliff for such as we.
18 Students wise, he maketh now thus
Those who fish in waters deep,
When the buried Master hails us
21 From the shores afar, complete.
52 Poems by Mary Baker Eddy
1 Art hath bathed this isthmus-lordling
In a beauty strong and meek
3 As the rock, whose upward tending
Points the plane of power to seek.
Isle of beauty, thou art teaching
6 Lessons long and grand, tonight,
To my heart that would be bleaching
To thy whiteness, Cliff of Wight.