Poems

Excerpt from Poems
You came when song itself was tame;
Though many strove with idle aim
Like moths about the sacred flame
On ignorant wing;
You scorned, in beater trails of fame,
To walk and sing.
You borrowed not Apollo's sign,
Affixed to many lifeless line;
You sought not the dim shadowy Nine
Obscure, remote:
You wove the human and divine
In one clear note!
You would not strive with them that deign
To seek on chaff-strewn floors for grain,
And even for trampled husks are fain,
But, in the field,
You strove with infinite care to gain
Life's golden yield.
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