To R.W.E.

Emma Lazarus

 
As when a father dies, his children draw
About the empty hearth, their loss to cheat
With uttered praise & love, & oft repeat
His all-familiar words with whispered awe.
The honored habit of his daily law,
Not for his sake, but theirs whose feeble feet
Need still that guiding lamp, whose faith, less sweet,
Misses that tempered patience without flaw,
So do we gather round thy vacant chair,
In thine own elm-roofed, amber-rivered town,
Master & Father! For the love we bear,
Not for thy fame's sake, do we weave this crown,
And feel thy presence in the sacred air,
Forbidding us to weep that thou art gone.
 
New York, May, 1884.

Poems by This Author

1492 by Emma Lazarus
Thou two-faced year, Mother of Change and Fate
Age and Death by Emma Lazarus
Come closer, kind, white, long-familiar friend
By the Waters of Babylon by Emma Lazarus
The Spanish noon is a blaze of azure fire
By the Waters of Babylon [V. Currents] by Emma Lazarus
Vast oceanic movements, the flux and reflux of immeasurable tides, oversweep our continent
Chopin by Emma Lazarus
A dream of interlinking hands, of feet
Critic and Poet by Emma Lazarus
No man had ever heard a nightingale
Echoes by Emma Lazarus
Late-born and woman-souled I dare not hope
In Exile by Emma Lazarus
In the Jewish Synagogue at Newport by Emma Lazarus
Here, where the noises of the busy town
Long Island Sound by Emma Lazarus
I see it as it looked one afternoon
The Feast of Lights by Emma Lazarus
Kindle the taper like the steadfast star
The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame
The New Year by Emma Lazarus
The South by Emma Lazarus
Night, and beneath star-blazoned summer skies
Venus of the Louvre by Emma Lazarus
Down the long hall she glistens like a star


Further Reading

Related Authors
Ralph Waldo Emerson