Edmund Clarence Stedman (Эдмунд Кларенс Стедман)

“Ergo Iris”

Weary at length of the ancestral gloom,
⁠     The self-same drone, the patter of dull pens,
Nature sent Iris of the rosy plume,
⁠     Bearing to Holmes her wonder-working lens;
Grateful, he gave his dearest child her name,
⁠     Lit the shrewd East with laughter, love, and tears,—
Bade halt the sun—and arching into fame
⁠     His rainbowed fancy now the world enspheres.

1. W. W.
2. J. G. H.
3. On a Great Man Whose Mind Is Clouding
4. The Singer
5. The World Well Lost

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