To him, whose childish hands did smooth, My path in infant day, And in my riper years, did soothe, My grief and cares away. To him, my brother, best beloved, From whom I've truth imbibed, Dear garland, friend and warder, proved, This firstling is inscribed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVERYBODY KNOWS by DAVID IGNATOW MERELY STATEMENT by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: REV. LEMUEL WILEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ON TAGORE by MARIANNE MOORE HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 4. DIFFERENCE OF OPINION WITH LYGDAMUS by EZRA POUND PRAYER TO THE OCEAN by GEORGE SANTAYANA BUCOLIC COMEDY: WHY by EDITH SITWELL ELEGY: THE LITTLE GHOST WHO DIED FOR LOVE; FOR ALLANAH HARPER by EDITH SITWELL |