 | Poems |  |
[You cross my dusty path with dreams divine]
You cross my dusty path with dreams divine,And like Spring's sunbursts, light my hours to gold.
You bring all thoughts of beauty. I behold,
Looking on you, the noons of Venice shine,
And from the skies of Rome, her suns decline.
The utterance of your names brings thoughts untold
Of art's high triumphs wrought by souls of old,
Babe and Madonna awed to love divine;
With you come Titian's colours to my eyes;
Prophets and holiest ones that Raphael drew,
Titans of Angelo, and gods arise,
White goddesses revealed to Phidias' view;
No common thought—no poorer sight, but flies
From fair imaginings that come with you.
| Poems | |