| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 1226. On Reading a Poet’s First Book |
| | | By Henry Cuyler Bunner |
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| THIS is a breath of summer wind | |
| That comes—we know not how—that goes | |
| As softly,—leaving us behind, | |
| Pleased with a smell of vine and rose. | |
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| Poet, shall this be all thy word? | 5 |
| Blow on us with a bolder breeze, | |
| Until we rise, as having heard | |
| The sob, the song of far-off seas. | |
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| Blow in thy shell until thou draw, | |
| From inner whorls where still they sleep, | 10 |
| The notes unguessed of love and awe, | |
| And all thy song grow full and deep. | |
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| Feeble may be the scanty phrase,— | |
| Thy dream a dream tongue never spake,— | |
| Yet shall thy note, through doubtful days, | 15 |
| Swell stronger for Endeavor’s sake. | |
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| As Jacob, wrestling through the night, | |
| Felt all his muscles strengthen fast | |
| With wakening strength, and met the light | |
| Blessed and strong, though overcast. | 20 |
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