Classic Poem

Where the strong tide bears you, Master,
Silent freight from our lonely shore,
Where the dim sail, fast and faster
Lessening, fades forevermore—
What welcome waits on what pale strand?
Do ghosts you loved make shadowy room
For the soldier come to his long-lost land
Bringing his battle-laurels home?

Sentinel, outpost, they shall greet you
Home at last from the bleak frontier,
Comrade, shall the captains meet you—
You who carried their standards here;
Deep in your nature Dante's belief,
And Pulci's laughter in your eyes,
Midwinter gloom of Tasso's grief,
Sunlight of Ariosto's skies.

Tears on your cheek, as they ever started
When face to face we gave you praise?
Ay me! Many's the time, child-hearted
Master, we gave you tearless days!
Nor praise nor silence sapped your will,
But from the fortune of your birth
Exiled and strange, you bore life still
With human-sweet Chaucerian mirth.

Master of antique courtly bearing
Though uncourtly fate befell,
Farewell, who go your long wayfaring—
Safe to the shore of rest, farewell!
How could we wish more years to you
Where Song, outwearied and baffled, faints,
And Beauty, heard of a random few,
Utters but small and timid plaints?

Ah, the still small voice we cover
With silly fret and cheap uproars;
Only comes the silence-lover
Death, as of old, through quiet doors
So quietly you slipt away
And carried from ignoble stress
Thoughts graceful as Italian day,
Acts of Italian gentleness.