Classic Poem

Here's a round to thee, Dan Chaucer,
At the festal Christmas time.
Pledge me, poets — to the master
Of our gentle art of rime.

To the eldest of our brothers,
To the honor of his name,
To the sweetness of his spirit,
To the glory of his fame;

To that voice whose music echoes
All the centuries along,
Prophesying art triumphant
In eternity of song.