DEAR, are they proud, whose leafy pomp outshone Proud Solomon in all his glory decked? Upon their errands bees and birds are gone; They sleep; the fields with little robes are flecked, Dipped in the sunset pools of damask hue, In mauve of dawn, or deep meridian blue. Dear, are they proud, who, flushed with Fortune's kiss, Breathe homage, large in acres, honour, might, Wealth without yoke, Fame with no after-hiss, -- Who wear the sword Fame buckles on, to smite For noble cause, refreshed in gardens fair Where jets of music splash the golden air? But prouder I, the shadow-born, to raise Sunward your soul, that rose by a shining stream Swift flowing, full of sky, that makes our days Go singing like rare music, or a dream One sleeps to dream again; for, dear, your love Strews flowers beneath us, holy stars above. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A FRIEND I CAN'T FIND by JAMES GALVIN AQUATINT FRAMED IN GOLD by AMY LOWELL STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 5. MARYLAND by CLARENCE MAJOR CELSUS AT HADRIAN'S VILLA by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IN THE GARDEN AT THE DAWN HOUR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: GODWIN JAMES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |