Greatness

Midst noble monuments, alone at eve
I wandered, reading records of the dead,—
In spite of praise forgotten past recall;
And near, so sheltered one might scarce perceive,
I found a lowly headstone, and I read
The word upon it: Hawthorne—that was all.

poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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