Excerpt from My Country: And Other Verse

Where thou art gone, in that fair land of song, How canst thou care for faltering phrase of mine? The everlasting poesy is thine, Of souls supreme among the immortal throng, Thou canst not want for words both sweet and strong, Where they who gave us the Pierian wine Themselves have drunken deep the draught divine, And conned a universe for centuries long.

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