Wallace Rice

  • Immortal Flowers

    Of old, a man who died
    Had, in his pride,
    Woman and steed and slave
    Heaped at his grave;
    Given this sudden end
    Their souls to send,
    Still serving, witherward
    Their lord had fared.

    Grown wiser, we, to-day,
    A happier way...

  • The End

    No freeman, saith the wise, thinks much on death:
    No man with soul he dareth call his own
    Liveth in dread lest there be no atone
    In time to come for yesterday’s warm breath,
    No more than he for such and hungereth
    As falls to those who speed their souls a-...

  • Under the Stars

    Tell me what sail the seas
    Under the stars?
    Ships, and ships’ companies,
      Off to the wars.

    Steel are the ship’s great sides,
      Steel are her guns,
    Backward she thrusts the tides,
      Swiftly she runs;

    Steel is the sailor’s heart...