WITH Shakspeare's manhood at a boy's wild heart,— <br />Through Hamlet's doubt to Shakspeare near allied, <br />And kin to Milton through his Satan's pride,— <br />At Death's sole door he stooped, and craved a dart; <br />And to the dear new bower of England's art,— <br />Even to that shrine Time else had deified, <br />The unuttered heart that soared against his side,— <br />Drove the fell point, and smote life's seals apart. <br />Thy nested home-loves, noble Chatterton; <br />The angel-trodden stair thy soul could trace <br />Up Redcliffe's spire; and in the world's armed space <br />Thy gallant sword-play:—these to many an one <br />Are sweet for ever; as thy grave unknown <br />And love-dream of thine unrecorded face.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thomas-chatterton-2/
