![]() | Uncollected Poems of James Russell Lowell | ![]() |
VII
I might,—but I'm like one who turns a glassAmong those heavenly melodists the stars,
220
Wheeling and turning in their golden cars,
Which fairest one to single from the mass,
Minerva, Venus, Juno, Vesta, Mars,
So lovely are they all to gaze upon,
Sweet, modest shunners of the garish sun.
![]() | Uncollected Poems of James Russell Lowell | ![]() |