Classic Poem

I bring thee to the spirits of all the past:
To Dante and to Shelley, and to each
Whose gift of high imperishable speech
Has made on earth their sacred memories last.
Before thee, lo! their glittering crowns they cast —
Higher than theirs the throne that thou shalt reach:
Sweeter the wonders that thou hast to teach:
Grander thy victory, and thy realm more vast.

Thou art the fairest flower of all the flowers
Poets have sung of with bright burning lips:
Their beauty my white blossom doth eclipse:
They are as leaves, as branches, on thy bowers, —
Thou art the one eternal rose that shines
Beyond all wreaths the spirit of passion twines.