Radiant, assured his wild slaves win the race!
CLX
Therefore I say ... no, shall not say, but think,
And save my breath for better purpose. White
From gray our log has burned to: just one blink
That quivers, loth to leave it, as a sprite
The outworn body. Ere your eyelids' wink
Punish who sealed so deep into the night
Your mouth up, for two poets dead so long,—
Here pleads a live pretender: right your wrong!