The English Language

Give me of every language, first my vigorous English Stored with imported wealth, rich in its natural mines— Grand in its rhythmical cadence, simple for household employment— Worthy the poet's song, fit for the speech of a man.

Fitted for every use like a great majestical river, Blending thy various streams, stately thou flowest along, Bearing the white-winged ship of Poesy over thy bosom, Laden with spices that come out of the tropical isles, Fancy's pleasuring yacht with its bright and fluttering pennons, Logic's frigates of war and the toil-worn barges of trade.

How art thou freely obedient unto the poet or speaker When, in a happy hour, thought into speech he translates; Caught on the word's sharp angles flash the bright hues of his fancy— Grandly the thought rides the words, as a good horseman his steed.