Go, wreathe his chair with laurel, And brim his glass with wine, And let one silent place proclaim The presence we divine. To sorrow for so pure a soul, So warm a heart as he, Makes never discord at a feast Given to Harmony. The dream he dreamed by starlight Is not less fair by sun: That Beauty may to Beauty join Till all the arts be one; That each who serves the Muses, And weaves the magic thrall With words, or sounds, or speechless earth, May brother be to all. On this wide hearth he lighted A new-inspiring flame, Whose torch to kindling torch for aye Shall whisper of his fame. Join hands for that Ideal He loved and worshiped most... Our absent guest, I said? . . . Ah, no! He is our absent host. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FLIRT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 18 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN TO MEN ABOUT TO WAR (SYNCHRONIZED SONNET, INVENTED BY THE AUTHOR) by EDWARD RALPH CHEYNEY THE CARRYING OF A GHOST by NELSON ANTRIM CRAWFORD A LOVERS' QUARREL by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON |