A Woman Homer sung

If any man drew near When I was young, I thought, "He holds her dear," And shook with hate and fear. But oh, 't was bitter wrong If he could pass her by With an indifferent eye. Whereon I wrote and wrought, And now, being gray, I dream that I have brought To such a pitch my thought That coming time can say, He shadowed in a glass What thing her body was." For she had fiery blood When I was young, And trod so sweetly proud As 't were upon a cloud, A woman Homer sung, That life and letters seem But an heroic dream.