Amelia Earhart
Amelia Earhart
Emptied is old Lorenzo’s royal crypt;
Breathless now stands the startled Taj Mahal;
Amelia lies in that blue manuscript-
The sea, true heroine’s memorial.
So, she achieves. What if the fatal prize
Be misty tomb with airy marble set?
Who knows where Desdemona’s kerchief lies,
Or where the last word of dark Juliet?
A sudden courage plucks us from ourselves,
Bids us be heroine though death the price;
Wherefore we bed on many lilied shelves
The straight defenders of the sacrifice.
Count her among the beautiful and brave,
Her turquoise mausoleum in each wave.
-
Nathalia Crane
Courage
Courage is the price that life exacts for granting peace
The soul that knows it not, knows no release
from little things;
Knows not the livid loneliness of fear
nor mountain heights, where bitter joy can hear
the sound of wings.
How can life grant us boon of living, compensate
for dull gray ugliness and pregnant hate
Unless we dare
The soul’s dominion? Each time we make a choice, we pay
with courage to behold restless day
And count it fair.
- Amelia Earhart
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