University of Virginia Library


144

A POET'S APOLOGY

Truth cut on high in tablets of hewn stone,
Or on great columns gorgeously adorned,
Perchance were left alone,
Passed by and scorned;
But Truth enchased upon a jewel rare,
A man would keep, and next his bosom wear.
So, many an hour, I sit and carve my gems—
Ten spoiled, for one in purer beauty set:
Not for kings' diadems—
Some amulet
That may be worn o'er hearts that toil and plod,—
Though but one pearl that bears the name of God.