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SONNET by PHILIPPE DESPORTES

First Line: HERE ICARUS FELL, THE YOUTH OF DAUNTLESS HEART
Last Line: HOW NOBLER FATE, OR RICHER GRAVE DESIRE?

HERE Icarus fell, the youth of dauntless heart,
Who dared to wing his flight through heaven's domain--
Here fell his limbs, his plumes bestrewed the main,
Whose fall doth envy to great souls impart.

Blest travail of a mind, no perils thwart,
Which drew such profit from so little pain;
O happy loss, full of so vast a gain,
Though vanquished, over time thou victor art.

The untried path could not his youth repress,
The power denied him, not the hardiness;
The sun's fierce splendour lit his funeral pyre.

He died; in glory's quest he found his doom,
High heaven his glorious aim, the sea his tomb;
How nobler fate, or richer grave desire?



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