Burton Egbert Stevenson,
The Home Book of Verse — Volume 2
“ And broken is the summer's splendid heart, And hope within a deep, dark grave is laid. As man aspires and falls, yet a soul springs Out of his agony of flesh at last, So love that flesh enthralls, shall rise on wings Soul-centered, when the rule of flesh is past. Then, most High Love, or wreathed with myrtle sprays, Or crownless and forlorn, nor less a star, Thee may I serve and follow all my days, Whose thorns are sweet as never roses are! ”
