TO CALDERÓN

Thou who, in accent of disdain profound,
Beholding man in all his littleness,
Declared: "Life is a shade, a dream, no less
For all the fantasy in living found!"

When shone thy luminous star o'er Spanish ground,
O Sun refulgent of our Stage, confess,
Did any doubt of genius e'er oppress
Thy mind of its own inspiration's bound?

From Tiber unto Manzanares, lo,
From Rhine to Andes, universal shrines
And homage to your masterpieces, show;

Thy name to such eternity has grown,
That it should teach thee to amend thy lines:
"All is a dream, except my fame alone".