To Papa


In high Olympus' sacred shade
A gift Minerva wrought
For her beloved philosopher
Immersed in deepest thought.

A shield to guard his aged breast
With its enchanted mesh
When he his nectar and ambrosia took
To strengthen and refresh.

Long may he live to use the life
The hidden goddess gave,
To keep unspotted to the end
The gentle, just, and brave.

December, 1887.


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