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Poem	By no kind Augustus reared, To no Medici endeared, German art arose; Fostering glory smiled not on her, Ne'er with kingly smiles to sun her, Did her blooms unclose. No,--she went by monarchs slighted Went unhonored, unrequited, From high Frederick's throne; Praise and pride be all the greater, That man's genius did create her, From man's worth alone. Therefore, all from loftier mountains, Purer wells and richer fountains, Streams our poet-art; So no rule to curb its rushing-- All the fuller flows it gushing From its deep--the heart!
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