Classic Poem

Giant of fancies grand, sun-perfumed soul!
Thy bubbling thoughts held revel in thy brain;
Thy songs of sorrows sad, mistrusts and pain
In rhythmic harmonies forever roll.

Thy spirit-muse sought out the vivid whole
Of vast conceits: it spurned all tare, while grain,
Sweet grain, of wondrous sweetness by it lain
Proves that thy soaring soul attained its goal.

Thou king of voyellous words, of puissant rhyme,
Thy clear eye saw beyond all Night, all Time,
Yet have thy regal musings left no trace,
Dead, thou art still ignored — no welcome nod
Acclaims thy ghost; few knew thy name or face,
Thou of all poets who could speak with God!