 | Romance and revery |  |
177
“THE TWILIGHT OF THE POETS.”
To E. C. S., ON READING HIS “Poets of America.”
Poet, though twilight, as your clear gaze marks,Wrap now all sweet Parnassian slopes and vales,
Poor poesy still may hide some frugal sparks
Whose fire of hope not wholly fades and fails;
For if the light alone may bring the larks,
No less does darkness love the nightingales!
| Romance and revery | |