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                 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.