Nor laurel him reward
Who hath his Maker's nod.
THE AURORA OF GUIDO[9]
A FRAGMENT
The god of day his car rolls up the slopes,
Reining his prancing steeds with steady hand;
The lingering moon through western shadows gropes,
While morning sheds its light o'er sea and land.
Castles and cities by the sounding main
Resound with all the busy din of life;