1864
                                     DANTE

                            by William Cullen Bryant









şiElectronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1996, World Library(R)
DAK Upgraded Edition, Copyright 2000, DAK Industries 2000, Inc(R)şI

{DANTE
                               DANTE
-
         Who, mid the grasses of the field
           That spring beneath our careless feet,
         First found the shining stems that yield
           The grains of life-sustaining wheat:
-
         Who first, upon the furrowed land,
           Strewed the bright grains to sprout, and grow,
         And ripen for the reaper's hand-
           We know not, and we cannot know.
-
         But well we know the hand that brought
           And scattered, far as sight can reach,
         The seeds of free and living thought
           On the broad field of modern speech.
-
         Mid the white hills that round us lie,
           We cherish that Great Sower's fame,
         And, as we pile the sheaves on high,
           With awe we utter Dante's name.
-
         Six centuries, since the poet's birth,
                                                            {DANTE ^line 20}
           Have come and flitted o'er our sphere:
         The richest harvest reaped on earth
           Crowns the last century's closing year.
-
-
                        THE END