FAIR lake, thy lovely and thy haunted shore Hath only echoes for the poet's lute; None may tread there but with unsandalled foot, Submissive to the great who went before, Filled with the mighty memories of yore. And yet how mournful are the records there: Captivity and exile and despair Did they endure who now endure no more, -- The patriot, the woman, and the bard, Whose names thy winds and waters bear along; What did the world bestow for their reward But suffering, sorrow, bitterness, and wrong? Genius! a hard and weary lot is thine, -- The heart thy fuel, and the grave thy shrine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SURFACES AND MASKS; 1 by CLARENCE MAJOR SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: AMOS SIBLEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS CLARK STREET BRIDGE by CARL SANDBURG AFTER DIVORCE; FOR NAHID SARMAD by KAREN SWENSON NIGHT IN ARIZONA by SARA TEASDALE TO DICK, ON HIS SIXTH BIRTHDAY by SARA TEASDALE |