[Poems by Lowell in] American Literature :: :: University of Virginia Library

The leaves this little box contains
Have cured much grief, soothed many pains;
The lover parted from his dame
With these his frantic pulse can tame
Watching their languorous smoke-scarves drape
The dreamed perfections of her shape;
The Minoría in retreat
With these allay their passion's heat,
Content that plans of doughtiest stroke,
Begun in fire, should end in smoke,
And see from Earth the shadow pass
Of the cocked-hat of Cánovas;
With these Orovio can forget
The task of paying debt with debt,
While creditors no longer scold
At getting smoke instead of gold;
The musing poet finds in these
Verses that all the critics please,
And feels the shadow o'er his eyes
Of laurels that the world denies.

But of all mortals 'neath the moon
I owe them the most precious boon,
For prescient sniffs of these, be sure,
Alone Columbus could allure
To push his prow in desperate quest
Of shores conjectured in the West,
A voyage that, slow year by year,
(As coral-insects islands rear)
Built up the possibility
Of two such peerless friends for me.