Classic Poem

I cast me not down to worship —
She is human as well as I:
And the same sun lights the valleys
That kisses the hill-tops high.

No words of wild adulation
Have I for the pet of fame;
She hath no need of incense
Such as goeth up to a name .

But something lovelier, dearer,
Than crowds ever rise and crown,
Calleth on me for telling —
Calleth the sweet tears down.

I have seen her — the wife and mother —
Little feet all about her played,
And the babes that slept in the twilight
Rollicking music made.

I know not why, but it touched me,
And quickened my pulse's beat —
I had found the poet a woman ,
Tender and true and sweet.