A POET WITHOUT HONOR
Before I die, I'll ride the sky;I'll part the clouds like foam.I'll brand each star with the Rolling R,And lead the Great Bear home.
I'll circle Mars to beat the cars,On Venus I will call.If she greets me fair as I ride the air,To meet her I will stall.
I'll circle high—as if passing by—Then volplane, bank, and land.Then if she'll smile I'll stop awhile,And kiss her snow-white hand.
To toast her health and...
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