The woman's cause is man's: they rise or sink Together.
The same words conceal and declare the thoughts of men.
For now the poet cannot die, Nor leave his music as of old, But round him ere he scarce be cold Begins the scandal and the cry.
There's no glory like those who save their country.
The noonday quiet holds the hill.
O Love! what hours were thine and mine, In lands of palm and southern pine; In lands of palm, of orange-blossom, Of olive, aloe, and maize and vine!