Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By Henry CuylerBunner1226 On Reading a Poets First Book
T
That comes—we know not how—that goes
As softly,—leaving us behind,
Pleased with a smell of vine and rose.
Blow on us with a bolder breeze,
Until we rise, as having heard
The sob, the song of far-off seas.
From inner whorls where still they sleep,
The notes unguessed of love and awe,
And all thy song grow full and deep.
Thy dream a dream tongue never spake,—
Yet shall thy note, through doubtful days,
Swell stronger for Endeavor’s sake.
Felt all his muscles strengthen fast
With wakening strength, and met the light
Blessed and strong, though overcast.