Classic and Contemporary Poetry
OLYMPUS, by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: With no sharp-sided peak or sudden come Last Line: To grudge these votive tears to beauty that has been. Alternate Author Name(s): Houghton, 1st Baron; Houghton, Lord Subject(s): Olympus (mountain), Greece | ||||||||
WITH no sharp-sided peak or sudden cone, Thou risest o'er the blank Thessalian plain, But in the semblance of a rounded throne, Meet for a monarch and his noble train To hold high synod; -- but I feel it vain, With my heart full and passionate as now, To frame my humble verse, as I would fain, To calm description, -- I can only bow My head and soul, and ask again, "if that be thou?" I feel before thee, as of old I felt (With sense as just, more vivid in degree), When first I entered and unconscious knelt Within the Roman Martyr's sanctuary: I feel that ages laid their faith on thee, And if to me thou art a holy hill, Let not the pious scorn, -- that piety Though veiled, that truth though shadowy, were still All the world had to raise its heart and fallen will. Thou shrine which man, of his own natural thought, Gave to the God of Nature, and girt round With elemental mightiness, and brought Splendor of form and depth of thunderous sound, To wall about with awe the chosen ground, -- All without toil of slaves or lavished gold, Thou wert upbuilt of memories profound, Imaginations wonderful and old, And the pure gems that lie in poets' hearts untold. God was upon thee in a thousand forms Of terror and of beauty, stern and fair, Upgathered in the majesty of storms, Or floating in the film of summer air; Thus wert thou made ideal everywhere; From thee the odorous plumes of love were spread, Delight and plenty through all lands to bear, -- From thee the never-erring bolt was sped To curb the impious hand or blast the perjured head. How many a boy, in his full noon of faith, Leaning against the Parthenon, half-blind With inner light, and holding in his breath, Awed by the image of his own high mind, Has seen the Goddess there so proudly shrined, Leave for a while her loved especial home, And pass, though wingless, on the northward wind, On to thy height, beneath the eternal dome, Where Heaven's grand councils wait, till Wisdom's self shall come! Ours is another world, and godless now Thy ample crown; 't is well, -- yes, -- be it so, But I can weep this moment, when thy brow, Light-covered with fresh hoar of autumn snow, Shines in white light and chillness, which bestow New grace of reverend loveliness, as seen With the long mass of gloomy hills below: Blest be our open faith! too grand, I ween, To grudge these votive tears to beauty that has been. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SACRED GROUND by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE UNDERTONES by BEULAH WINDLE SCALLIN THE GODS LAUGHED ON HIGH OLYMPUS by LEONORA SPEYER PARTY ON OLYMPUS by JAMES LAUGHLIN COLUMBUS AND THE MAYFLOWER by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES FROM THE IONIAN ISLANDS by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD MORNING by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES LONDON CHURCHES by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES SHADOWS: 2 by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES |
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