Classic Poem

The grace and beauty of the ancient Greeks,
Renew themselves in thy rich verse to-day,
There budding Love his soul's companion seeks.
There Art and Nature hold a conjoined sway,
There the melody and fire of nascent love —
Now soft as wood-note, now as torrent rash —
Now langorous as cooing of ring'd dove —
Now reckless as the baleful lightening's crash —
Throb with the cadence of a summer sea.
Your magic measures move in mazy dance,
There maid and youth bend to their goddess — Beauty;
While Passion weaves his fierce compelling trance.
Your brow to-day the diadem should bear
Were things but as they should be — not as they are.