They praise the Fireside Poets four:
Wadsworth, Holmes, Whittier, and Lowell,
As they sat by the fire, quill and parchment o'er,
And they carefully formed ev'ry consonant and vowel.
Soft by the fire, they pondered without fetter -
Henry, Oliver, John, and James -
And meaning sprang to each word and letter;
But as they wrote, did they see the flames?
Th' flickering light that bathed paper and mind,
Drew them deep beneath mountain and high above cloud,
'Til the hawk, the blind fish, and the quill all aligned,
And the Poet was freed from humanity's shroud?
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