John Aylmer Dorgan

  • King solomon stood in the house of the Lord,
      And the Genii silently wrought around,
    Toiling and moiling without a word,
      Building the temple without a sound.

    Fear and rage were theirs, but naught,
      In mien or face, of fear or rage;
    For had he...

  • The beautiful, which mocked his fond pursuing,
      The poet followed long;
    With passionate purpose the shy shadow wooing,
      And soul-betraying song.

    And still the fervor of his fond endeavor
      To him seemed poured in vain,
    And all in vain, forever...