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James Russell Lowell - The Pregnant Comment
Work rating: Medium

Opening one day a book of mine,
I absent, Hester found a line
Praised with a pencil-mark, and this
She left transfigured with a kiss.

When next upon the page I chance,
Like Poussin`s nymphs my pulses dance,
And whirl my fancy where it sees
Pan piping `neath Arcadian trees,
Whose leaves no winter-scenes rehearse,
Still young and glad as Homer`s verse.
`What mean,` I ask, `these sudden joys?
This feeling fresher than a boy`s?
What makes this line, familiar long,
New as the first bird`s April song?
I could, with sense illumined thus,
Clear doubtful texts in AEeschylus!`

Laughing, one day she gave the key,
My riddle`s open-sesame;
Then added, with a smile demure,
Whose downcast lids veiled triumph sure,
`If what I left there give you pain,
You--you--can take it off again;
`Twas for _my_ poet, not for him,
Your Doctor Donne there!`

                 Earth grew dim
And wavered in a golden mist,
As rose, not paper, leaves I kissed.
Donne, you forgive? I let you keep
Her precious comment, poet deep.
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