Dust on the page, from these forgetful years! I brush it off, to see the fading date Written in boyish hand; to find through tears The lad's dear name, inscribed with all the state...
Vision of light, above triumphal car Vision of guidance, star of ev'ry star And throned saint within the great white Rose, I follow thee: the book at last to close,...
Fades the great pyramid, the blank walls fade! And thou, immortal boy, dost walk with me Along that grove from out whose deeper shade The nightingale sings living ecstasy. ...
Oh no, not this! This is a Roman face, Superb, composed, with such a matron grace As that of great Cornelia, never thee. Young princess of an ancient poetry!
You are the first wild violet of the year; Young grass you are, and apple-bloom, and spray Of honeysuckle; you are dawn of day. And the first snow-fall! It is you I hear...