Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme, Have not we sworn it, many a time, That we no more our verse would scrawl, For Shakespeare he had said it all!

We lean on Faith; and some less wise have cried, "Behold the butterfly, the see that's cast!" Vain hopes that fall like flowers before the blast! What man can look on Death unterrified?

I am the laughter of the new-born child On whose soft-breathing sleep an angel smiled.

My name may have buoyancy enough to float upon the sea of time.

"Whose name was writ in water!" What large laughter Among the immortals when that word was brought! Then when his fiery spirit rose flaming after, High toward the topmost heaven of heavens up-caught! "All hail! our younger brother!" Shakespeare said, And Dante nodded his imperial head.

What is a Sonnet? 'Tis the pearly shell That murmurs of the far-off, murmuring sea; A precious jewel carved most curiously; It is a little picture painted well. What is a Sonnet? 'Tis the tear that fell From a great poet's hidden ecstasy; A two-edged sword, a star, a song--ah me! Sometimes a heavy tolling funeral bell.