To Other Small Verse-Makers
OH, all ye little poet-folk, Untried, enamored of a dream; Ye, having breathed the altar-smoke, And loved a shade, and chased a gleam; —BY FANNIE STEARNS DAVIS
OH, all ye little poet-folk,
Untried, enamored of a dream;
Ye, having breathed the altar-smoke,
And loved a shade, and chased a gleam; —
Untried, enamored of a dream;
Ye, having breathed the altar-smoke,
And loved a shade, and chased a gleam; —
In face of all the woful things,
The long injustices of Life,
Believing somehow, something sings
Above the sordidness and strife; —
The long injustices of Life,
Believing somehow, something sings
Above the sordidness and strife; —
Ye, gallant grapplers with foul Fate,
Let us sing high, then fight. Perchance
Our voice and valor shall be great
As Fate’s unsinging circumstance.
Let us sing high, then fight. Perchance
Our voice and valor shall be great
As Fate’s unsinging circumstance.
Oh, all ye little poet-folk,
Men say we are but fools of God, —
And yet, Gods breathe the incense-smoke ;
And they are worms that seek the sod.
Men say we are but fools of God, —
And yet, Gods breathe the incense-smoke ;
And they are worms that seek the sod.