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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409107" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet XVI</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409107" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">If I have graced no single song of mine<br>With thy sweet name, they all are full of thee;<br>Thou art my Muse, my 'May', my 'Madeline':<br>But 'Julia'! -- ah! that gentle name to me<br>Is something far too sacred for the throng<br>Of worldly listeners 'round me. Yet ev'n now<br>I weave a chaplet for thy sinless brow; --<br>Wilt thou not wear it? 'T is a fashionable song, --<br>I will not say of what, -- but on it I<br>Have wreaked heart, mind, my love, my hopes of fame,<br>Yet after all it hath no nobler aim<br>Than thy dear praise. Ere many moons pass by,<br>When the lost gem is set, the crown complete,<br>I'll lay a poet's tribute at thy feet.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Henry+Timrod">Henry Timrod</a></strong></div>

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