Classic Poem

Full many a pleasure through the hours of life
Hath met me, — some in byeways, some in broad
Wide-open pathways of the common road:
Full many a flower hath fallen beneath my knife,
Some gathered redly from tempestuous strife,
Some plucked in valleys that calm thought hath showed; —
With many gracious gleams my days have glowed;
With many stars my clear skies have been rife.

Yet never have I known a pleasure higher
Than when, an ardent trembling youth, I came
To lay before my lady my desire
Couched in pure rhythmic utterance, bright with flame
Of passion: — yea, the simple pleasure sweet
Of laying my first verses at her feet.