 | Under Green Leaves |  |
230
THE GREAT CRITICS.
Whom shall we praise?Let's praise the dead!—
In no men's ways
Their heads they raise,
Nor strive for bread
With you or me,—
So, do you see?
We'll praise the dead!
Let living men
Dare but to claim
From tongue or pen
Their meed of fame,
231
Spoil their renown,
Deny their sense,
Wit, eloquence,
Poetic fire,
All they desire.
Our say is said,
Long live the dead!
| Under Green Leaves | |