I, TOO, have loved the Greeks, the Hero-sprung,
The glad, spoiled children of Posterity:
Have closed my eyes, more near their shrines to be,
Have hushed my heart, to hear their epics sung.
Upon their golden accents I have hung,
With Thyrsis wooed to vales of Sicily,
And Homer, blind, has given me to see
Olympus, where the deathless Gods were young.
But still, that one remembering with awe"I Too Have Loved" by Florence Earle Coates. Published in The North American Review (January 1919).
Whose vision deeper than all others saw,
I feel the dearer debt my spirit owes
To him, who towers, peerless and sublime,
The noblest, largest intellect of Time,
Born where the English Avon softly flows.