To Lamartine

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          A poet led me once, in chains of flowers,
             A pilgrimage beneath the Orient skies;
          And there I dreamed I walked in Eden's bowers,

          He touched his harp, and when he sang of Love,
             Then all my heart was to the poet given;
          For his sweet tones seemed echoes from above;---
             Strains that breathed less of Earth than Heaven.

          But when in majesty I saw him stand
             The sacred shrine of Liberty to guard;
          The destinies of France within his hand,---
             Then in the hero I forgot the bard.

          Poet and hero, thus alternately,
             Would claim my homage, each with equal art.
          Allegiance I to neither could deny,
             So each by turns shared my divided heart.

This work was published before January 1, 1926, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.