The Emperor Octavian, called the August, I being his favorite, bestowed his name Upon me, and I hold it still in trust, In memory of him and of his fame. I am the Virgin, and my vestal flame Burns less intensely than the Lion's rage; Sheaves are my only garlands, and I claim The golden Harvests as my heritage. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO SAMUEL COLERIDGE UPON HEARING HIS 'SOME I FEEL LIKE A MOTHERLESS..' by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 21 by OMAR KHAYYAM IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 67 by ALFRED TENNYSON AUTUMN by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE WORLD-MILLER by FRANCES BARBER |