One asked of regret,
And I made reply:
To have held the bird,
And let it fly;
To have seen the star
For a moment nigh,
And lost it
Through a slothful eye;
To have plucked the flower
And cast it by;
To have one only hope--
To die.
_Lionel Johnson_
Born in 1867, Lionel Johnson received a classical education at Oxford,
and his poetry is a faithful reflection of his studies in Greek and
Latin literatures. Though he allied himself with the modern Irish
poets, his Celtic origin is a literary myth; Johnson, having been
converted to Catholicism in 1891, became imbued with Catholic and,
later, with Irish traditions. His verse, while sometimes strained and
over-decorated, is chastely designed, rich and, like that of the
Cavalier poets of the seventeenth century, mystically devotional.
_Poems_ (1895) contains his best work. Johnson died in 1902.