The Rarity Of Genius

While yet my lip was breathing youth's first breath, I all too young to know their deepest spell, I saw Medea and Phædra in Rachel; Later I saw the great Elizabeth. Rachel, Ristori -- we shall speak with death Ere we meet souls like these. In one age dwell Not many such: a century shall tell Its hundred beads before it braid a wreath For two so queenly foreheads. If it take Æons to form a diamond, grain on grain, Æons to crystallize its fire and dew, By what slow processes must Nature make Her Shakespeares and her Raffaels? Great the gain If she spoil millions making one or two.