I
SPARTA AND RHODES
“Spartam nactus es, hanc orna.”
“Hic Rhodus, hic salta.”
Sonnet, as diamond of mine or dew
Perfect in form and purity and light,
Wherefore, though more aspiring Muse incite,
Walk I content among thy retinue?
Veiled in the vast and visionary blue
This song should soar, companion of their flight
Whose pinions effortless unchallenged smite
Aerial void where eagle never flew.
Epic or tragic laurel would I share,
Or his, whose soul streams forth in lyric odes;
But yoke of public and of private care
With daily lassitude the spirit loads,
And to the earth remands her from the air,
“Behold thy Sparta,” saying, “and thy Rhodes.”
1895.
