Edmund Clarence Stedman

Give me to die unwitting of the day, And stricken in Life's brave heat, with senses clear!

Crops failed; wealth took a flight; house, treasure, land, Slipped from my hold—thus plenty comes and goes. One friend I had, but he too loosed his hand (Or was it I?) the year I met with Rose.

Where's he that died o' yesterday? What better chance hath he To clink the can and toss the pot When this night's junkets be? For the lad that died o' yesterday Is just as dead — ho! ho! —

Hopeless of all he dared to hope so long, The music born within him dies away; Even the song he loved becomes a pain, Full-freighted with a yearning all in vain.

Let the winds blow! a fiercer gale Is wild within me! what may quell That sullen tempest? I must sail Whither, O whither, who can tell!

I loved: and in the morning sky, A magic castle upward grew!

At last the god cometh! The air runs over with splendor; The fire leaps high on the altar; Melodious thunders shake the ground. Hark to the Delphic responses! Hark! it is the god!

I dare aver He is a brave discoverer Of climes his elders do not know. He has more learning than appears On the scroll of twice three thousand years.

The year of jubilee has come; Gather the gifts of Earth with equal hand; Henceforth ye too may share the birthright soil, The corn, the wine, and all the harvest-home.

O, our feeble tests of greatness! Look for one so calm of soul As to take the even chalice of his life and drink the whole. Noble deeds are held in honor, but the wide world sorely needs Hearts of patience to unravel this, — the worth of …

O child! dear child! Above the clouds I lift my wing To hear the bells of Heaven ring; Some of their music, though my flights be wild, To Earth I bring; Then let me soar and sing!

What if there be a fated day When the Faery Isle shall pass away, And its beautiful groves and fountains seem The myths of a long, delicious dream!