Love To Rhyme

STILL I love to rhyme, and still more, rhyming, to wander Far from the commoner way; Old-time trills and falls by the hill-side still do I ponder, as my strides coursing through the streaming waters, Dreaming to-morrow to-day. Come here, come, revive me, Sun-God, teach me, Apollo, Measures descanted before; Since in timeless verses, I must follow, Prints in the marbles of ancient folk-lore. Still strange, strange, they sound in old-young raiment invested, Songs for the brain to forget - Young song-birds elate to grave old temples be-nested Piping and chirruping yet. Thoughts? No thought has yet unskilled attempted to flutter Trammeled so vilely in verse; Even if its for a while, He who writes but aims at fame and his bread and his butter, Won with a groan and a curse. Of course, We still love to rhyme..