Poem by Henry Van Dyke

To Julia Marlowe

Long had I loved this ”Attic shape,” the brede 
Of marble maidens round this urn divine:
But when your golden voice began to read,
The empty urn was filled with Chian wine.

1. The Wind of Sorrow
2. War-Music
3. Nepenthe
4. The Ancestral Dwelling
5. The Heavenly Hills of Holland

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