Grace Greenwood Poems

THY life is like a fountain clear, upspringing
Beside the weary way I'm treading now;
I love to linger near, and feel it flinging
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O'STRONG and pure of soul! — O earnest-hearted!
Like stranger-pilgrims at some way-side shrine
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O FAITHFUL friend! O gentle wife!
I know I may not add to-day
One drop unto thy' wine of life,'
Of love, or happiness, or pride;
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WE never met; yet to my soul
Thy name hath been a voice of singing,
And ever to thy glorious lays
The echoes of my heart are ringing.
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A NAMELESS power lives in thy verse,
A gleam of things divine!
And with meek looks and claspèd hands
My spirit bows to thine.
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'ENTHUSIAST,' 'Dreamer,' — such the names
Thine age bestows on thee,
For that great nature, going forth
In world-wide sympathy;
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I SEND thee here no valentine,
I only dash thee off a line.
In trembling haste I send it, —
Give earnest heed to what I say;
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We need not to be told thou art
Of Rome's own glorious race;
We hear her song breathe in thy voice,
In thy form behold her grace,
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MUST silence rest upon thy lyre,
And will thy hand awake it never?
And must the great deeps of thy soul
Remain becalmed for ever?
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APOLLO once had leave to travel;
He sought our Yankee land,
And he lionized it through,
With his golden lyre in hand.
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