Sonnet I By Alan Seeger

    Sidney, in whom the heyday of romance
    Came to its precious and most perfect flower,
    Whether you tourneyed with victorious lance
    Or brought sweet roundelays to Stella’s bower,
    I give myself some credit for the way
    I have kept clean of what enslaves and lowers,
    Shunned the ideals of our present day
    And studied those that were esteemed in yours;
    For, turning from the mob that buys Success
    By sacrificing all Life’s better part,
    Down the free roads of human happiness
    I frolicked, poor of purse but light of heart,
    And lived in strict devotion all along
    To my three idols – Love and Arms and Song.