After a hundred years Nobody knows the place, -- Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged, Strangers strolled and spelled At the lone orthography Of the elder dead. Winds of summer fields Recollect the way, -- Instinct picking up the key Dropped by memory. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 90 by PHILIP SIDNEY MY MOTHER'S GARDEN by ALICE E. ALLEN LOVE AND TIME by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD PSALM 143 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE BLUE BUTTERFLY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE SLAVE MARKET by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |