Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ODE TO THE PAST, by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN Poem Explanation Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Surely our path is darker than before Last Line: O change the bridal song for funeral hymn. Alternate Author Name(s): Bon Gaultier (with Theodore Martin) Subject(s): Love; Past | ||||||||
I SURELY our path is darker than before, And we have little power to make new light, There is a change upon this earthly shore: Some growing stain, some dark and blasting blight Has gather'd round our heads; for, when we look Upon the past, there is an atmosphere, Far richer, milder, happier, and more clear Than ours is now -- How is it that we brook This drear enchantment? Can it be that right Is banish'd from the world, and sin and crime Are now the ministers of hoary time? II To grieve is to be wise -- and yet we grieve, And yet our wisdom cometh slowly on; And yet we hope -- how vainly! -- to retrieve That love, and light, and splendour that is gone. -- How can we? when our every thought is fixt On objects which the wise of old despised; Glory is dead, and sordidness is prized, And even truth with lies is strangely mixt: Now may we seek for love with piteous moan, For love within the world existeth not, And hope is sad, and fancy is forgot. III Our days are surely not the days of joy -- There are within this theatre of pain Too many scenes of sadness and annoy To cloud the forehead, and distract the brain; -- There are too many tasks the soul should spurn, That it must bend to with disguised smile, Mocking at happiness; and see the while Its dearest visions buried in their urn, And all their glorious promise reared in vain! Doth it not anguish till despair is meek, And even pride is wearied, worn, and weak? IV Our sleep is not the sleep of quietness -- For it is haunted by imaginings, That do excel all present happiness, As far as fancy doth all human things; They are the death-raised children of the past, The spectral forms that whisper to the mind Dark omen oracles, drear as the wind Which o'er a lonely moor is forward cast, When the old year unto its infant sings. Alas! that time should have a power so dread To make the living bow unto the dead! V We cannot tell when passion lives or dies, Truth is so great a stranger to the heart; Much have we done to purchase miseries, And now we cannot force them to depart! We seek for that which we shall never find; We seek for joy that we have thrown away; We sit like men who wait the dawn of day For ever, and forget that they are blind. O! world, cold world, how retrograde thou art, When thou hast lost whate'er the soul desires, And hast no light but heart-consuming fires! VI Earth, mother earth, thou art the same no more! The future is an ocean of no rest; The past alone is an enchanted shore, A solitary island of the blest -- A starry Cyclad, from whose beach our ship Is ever distant, ever still in sight -- O'er which deep quiet and eternal light Hang evermore, whilst the uncertain lip Of time's rough wave is ever at our breast, And the masts strain, and yield like yearling pines, Until the heart is faint with fearful signs. VII Thou Golden Age! when love did overshadow Like a bright cloud the rich and glowing earth, When on the mountain, field, and grassy meadow, Creation revell'd in eternal birth -- Why hast thou gone so utterly? why fled With all thy sweets? Ah sorrow! beauty must; For man will ever trample in the dust All chaplets of bright flowers, and in their stead Comes blight and poison, pestilence and dearth, And sorrow in its many coiled ways, -- Yea, let him build an altar in their praise! VIII Is there more beauty in the modern page, Than lives within 'the songs of Grecian years'? Is there more virtue in the modern sage, To fledge the soul and flatter down its fears? Have we as passion'd or as pure a love As stray'd beside the old Arcadian rills? Are not the forests of the western hills, The only home of Peace, affrighted dove? Have we more cause for laughter or for tears? Is not the light of life waxed dark and dim? O change the bridal song for funeral hymn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FERGUS FALLING by GALWAY KINNELL A TIME PAST by DENISE LEVERTOV LAST THINGS by WILLIAM MEREDITH CHRISTMAS TREE by JOHN FREDERICK NIMS THIS MORNING, GOD by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR BOTHWELL: PART 4 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |
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