Thou demi-god of Rome, whose fame Down twenty centuries comes to me, How burns my soul to be like thee Whene'er I hear thy mighty name! Fades Shakespeare; fade those kings of song, Blind Homer, Milton the divine, The Mantuan and the Florentine. Allures no more that laureled throng. Them I revere, but thee I love, O Julius, this the spirit's truth, Who, pale and dissolute in thy youth, In manhood the strong world didst move. Yes, thee I love, thou rulest my thought, Great Master of both pen and sword; Better than any written word, The act to which the dream is wrought. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE LEAVES by HAYDEN CARRUTH SONG OF THE WAVE by ROBERT FROST OMNIPRESENCE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO JOHN BROWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO SAMUEL COLERIDGE UPON HEARING HIS 'SOME I FEEL LIKE A MOTHERLESS..' by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO J. D. H. (KILLED AT SURREY C. H., OCTOBER, 1866) by SIDNEY LANIER |