The wreath that star-crowned Shelley gave
Is lying on thy Roman grave,
Yet on its turf young April sets
Her store of slender violets;
Though all the Gods their garlands shower,
I too may bring one purple flower.
Alas! what blossom shall I bring,...

        ex noto fictum carmen…
…licuit semperque
licebit signatum præsente nota producere [carmen].
HOR. A. P. 240, 58, 59.

Yes, faith is a goodly anchor;
  When skies are sweet as a psalm,
At the bows it lolls so stalwart,
  In its bluff, broad-shouldered calm.

And when over breakers to leeward
  The tattered surges are hurled,
It may keep our head to the tempest,...

After an interval, reading, here in the midnight,
With the great stars looking on—all the stars of Orion looking,
And the silent Pleiades—and the duo looking of Saturn and ruddy Mars;
Pondering, reading my own songs, after a long interval, (sorrow and death familiar now)...

Poet: Walt Whitman

This was your butterfly, you see,—
  His fine wings made him vain:
The caterpillars crawl, but he
  Passed them in rich disdain.—
My pretty boy says, “Let him be
  Only a worm again!”

O child, when things have learned to wear
  Wings once...

Through love to light! Oh wonderful the way
That leads from darkness to the perfect day!
From darkness and from sorrow of the night
To morning that comes singing o’er the sea.
Through love to light! Through light, O God, to thee,
Who art the love of love,...

Night after night we dauntlessly embark
On slumber’s stream, in whose deep waves are drowned
Sorrow and care, and with all senses bound
Drift for a while beneath the sombre arc
Of that full circle made of light and dark
Called life, yet have no fear, and...

When i forth fare beyond this narrow earth,
With all its metes and bounds of now and here,
And brooding clouds of ignorance and fear
That overhung me on my day of birth,
Wherethrough the jocund sun’s perennial mirth
Has shone more inly bright each coming...

I
as she FEARED IT WOULD BE
HERE in this room where first we met,
  And where we said farewell with tears,
Here, where you swore “Though you forget,
  My love shall deeper grow with years,”

Here, where the pictures on the wall,
  The very...

I Saw not they were strange, the ways I roam,
  Until the music called, and called me thence,
And tears stirred in my heart as tears may come
To lonely children straying far from home,
  Who know not how they wandered so, nor whence.

If I might follow...