Starlight shimmers in her hair,
And my lady’s form is blended
With the shadows, waiting there.
As in silence we are taken
In the evening’s soft embrace,
Would I never could awaken
From the wonder in her face.
R. P. CRENSHAW, JR.
Coelum non animum mutant
Qui trans mare currunt.
—Horace.
Sail forth across the jade-green sea and view the glades our fathers trod,