“O crafty one, with whom, among the gods, Plottest thou now? Thus hath it ever been Thy pleasure to devise, apart from me, Thy plans in secret; never willingly Dost thou reveal to me thy purposes.” Then thus replied the Father of the gods And mortals: “Juno, do not think to know All my designs, for thou wilt find the task Too hard for thee, although thou be my spouse. What fitting is to be revealed, no one Of all the immortals or of men shall know Sooner than thou; but when I form designs Apart from all the gods, presume thou not To question me or pry into my plans.” Juno, the large-eyed and august, rejoined:— “What words, stern son of Saturn, hast thou said! It never was my wont to question thee Or pry into thy plans, and thou art left To form them as thou wilt; yet now I fear The silver-footed Thetis has contrived— That daughter of the Ancient of the Deep— To o’erpersuade thee, for, at early prime, She sat before thee and embraced thy knees; And thou hast promised her, I can not doubt, To give Achilles honor and to cause Myriads of Greeks to perish by their fleet.” Then Jove, the cloud-compeller, spake again:— “Harsh-tongued! thou ever dost suspect me thus, Nor can I act unwatched; and yet all this Profits thee nothing, for it only serves To breed dislike, and is the worse for thee. But were it as thou deemest, ’tis enough That such has been my pleasure. Sit thou down In silence, and obey, lest all the gods Upon Olympus, when I come and lay These potent hands on thee, protect thee not.” He spake, and Juno, large-eyed and august, O’erawed, and curbing her high spirit, sat In silence; meanwhile all the gods of heaven Within the halls of Jove were inly grieved. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. A man of true genius.—_Edgar A. Poe._ A man’s heart beats in his every line.—_George Gilfillan._ Of all our poets Longfellow best deserves the title of artist.—_Griswold._ They (Longfellow’s poems) appear to me more beautiful than on former readings, much as I then admired them. The exquisite music of your verses dwells more agreeably than ever on my ear, and more than ever am I affected by their depth of feeling and their spirituality, and the creative power with which they set before us passages from the great drama of life.—_William Cullen Bryant in letter to Longfellow._ Santa Filomena. Whene’er a noble deed is wrought, Whene’er is spoken a noble thought, Our hearts, in glad surprise, To higher levels rise. The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares.