The Dead Emperor
To-day, with bending head and eyes, thou, too, Columbia,
Less for the mighty crown laid low in sorrow—less for the Emperor,
Thy true condolence breathest, sendest out o’er many a salt sea mile,
Mourning a good old man—a faithful shepherd, patriot.
|from Leaves of Grass: BOOK XXXIV. SANDS AT SEVENTY|
by Walt Whitman
|Not Meagre, Latent Boughs Alone||As the Greek’s Signal Flame|