A LATER DEDICATION <br /> <br />To her the sweetest, fairest, worthiest one, <br />Who the inspirer is of my new praise, <br />Whom lately once, one Autumn afternoon, <br />I walked with nor told aught a lover says, <br />And yet who knows I love her in all ways <br />A maiden dreams: the suppliant at her throne, <br />The counsellor of strength, the lord of lays <br />Loyal to chastity and her alone, <br />These rhymes I dedicate. Oh, if there be <br />Still in this world of vanished creeds and kings <br />Some faith in royal blood and right divine, <br />Some lingering reverence paid to majesty, <br />Here seek it and here find it, for it clings <br />To each hushed verse like incense to a shrine.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-love-sonnets-of-proteus-part-iv-vita-nova-cxiv/
