Classic Poem

In a swift whirlwind rises to the sky
A mighty cloud of dust, confused and dun;
It covers with its wings the glowing disc
Of the far-shining sun.
It says with mockery, — " Go upon your course! "
I have made dim your beams of topaz bright,
King of the sphere, I have brought low your pride,
I have obscured your light!

The sun makes answer: " Soon the wind will fall
You will become base mire, despised and dumb,
While I light up the heavens and the earth, —
Today, — and days to come! "
So stupid envy, insolent and false,
The laurel crown of genius fain would blight.
It is foul dust: intelligence, the sun —
Immortal is its light.