To Victor Hugo.
Victor in Poesy, Victor in Romance,1
Cloud-weaver of phatasmal hopes and fears,2
French of the French, and Lord of human tears ;3
Child-lover ; Bard whose fame-lit laurels glance4
Darkening the wreaths of all that would advance,5
Beyond our strait, their claim to be thy peers ;6
Weird Titan by thy winter weight of years7
As yet unbroken, Stormy voice of France !8
Who dost not love our England—so they say ;9
I know not—England, France, all man to be10
Will make one people ere man’s race be run :11
And I, desiring that diviner day,12
Yield thee full thanks for they full courtesy13
To younger England in the boy my son.14