  ONLY this—that when I’ve done with wearing Gold words upon my heart and reaching after My immortality, I shall be hearing Then, and long afterwards (be sure!) your laughter. Only this—that when I come to sleeping And later men appraise me in the quarrels Of poets and the bays, tell them I’m keeping No bays, but at my heart a lover’s laurels. Some of these poems have appeared in “The Saturday Review,” “The Westminster Gazette,” and “The Saturday Westminster Gazette.” They are republished by the courtesy of the editors of those journals. |
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