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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472510" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Poem (Halleck monument dedication)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">SAY not the Poet dies!<br> Though in the dust he lies,<br> He cannot forfeit his melodious breath,<br> Unsphered by envious death!<br> Life drops the voiceless myriads from its roll;<br> Their fate he cannot share,<br> Who, in the enchanted air<br> Sweet with the lingering strains that Echo stole,<br> Has left his dearer self, the music of his soul!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> We o'er his turf may raise<br> Our notes of feeble praise,<br> And carve with pious care for after eyes<br> The stone with &quot;Here he lies;&quot;<br> He for himself has built a nobler shrine,<br> Whose walls of stately rhyme<br> Roll back the tides of time,<br> While o'er their gates the gleaming tablets shine<br> That wear his name inwrought with many a golden line!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Call not our Poet dead,<br> Though on his turf we tread!<br> Green is the wreath their brows so long have worn,--<br> The minstrels of the morn,<br> Who, while the Orient burned with new-born flame,<br> Caught that celestial fire<br> And struck a Nation's lyre!<br> These taught the western winds the poet's name;<br> Theirs the first opening buds, the maiden flowers of fame!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Count not our Poet dead!<br> The stars shall watch his bed,<br> The rose of June its fragrant life renew<br> His blushing mound to strew,<br> And all the tuneful throats of summer swell<br> With trills as crystal-clear<br> As when he wooed the ear<br> Of the young muse that haunts each wooded dell,<br> With songs of that &quot;rough land&quot; he loved so long and well!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> He sleeps; he cannot die!<br> As evening's long-drawn sigh,<br> Lifting the rose-leaves on his peaceful mound,<br> Spreads all their sweets around,<br> So, laden with his song, the breezes blow<br> From where the rustling sedge<br> Frets our rude ocean's edge<br> To the smooth sea beyond the peaks of snow.<br> His soul the air enshrines and leaves but dust below!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472510" data-title="Poem (Halleck monument dedication) de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="SAY not the Poet dies!
 Though in the dust he lies,
 He cannot forfeit his melodious breath,
 Unsphered by envious death!
 Life drops the voiceless myriads from its roll;
 Their fate he cannot share,
 Who, in the enchanted air
 Sweet with the ling..."></div>
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