Classic Poem

Master, whose very names have godlike power
Of song and light divine, being his who went
Unscathed through blearing fire omnipotent,
Singing for men; and his who hour by hour
Stands in the imminent and splendid shower
Of God's effulgence; and being lastly blent
With the warm light and odour effluent
Of your own rhymes, our latest, loveliest dower,
Not in our own land could my weakness mock
Your strength with homage of my poor May-day,—
The applause of circling poets scared my song,
But here where twenty thousand thunders shock
The violent air for leagues of dim sea-way,
Surely my heart may speak, nor do you wrong!