When time has rocked the present age to sleep, And lighter hearts are lilting to the sway Of rhythmic poesy's enhanced lay, Recurring sequences shall fitly keep Your fame eternal, as they lightly sweep Aside the curtain to that potent day When you in primal fervor led the way Unto Apollo's narrow winding steep. None shall forget your travail, utter, sore, That oped the golden avenue of song, When, like a knight, so errantly you bore The mantled children valiantly along, Their homage as a rising incense sweet Shall permeate the heavens at your feet! |