I MY ardours for emprize nigh lost Since Life has bared its bones to me, I shrink to seek a modern coast Whose riper times have yet to be; Where the new regions claim them free From that long drip of human tears Which peoples old in tragedy Have left upon the centuried years. II For, wonning in these ancient lands, Enchased and lettered as a tomb, And scored with prints of perished hands, And chronicled with dates of doom, Though my own Being bear no bloom I trace the lives such scenes enshrine, Give past exemplars present room, And their experience count as mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUTH'S IMMORTALITY by GEORGE SANTAYANA TWO FUSILIERS by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES ODE ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT, DROWNED IN A TUB by THOMAS GRAY SHERIDAN AT CEDAR CREEK by HERMAN MELVILLE THE DEATH OF HUSS by ALFRED AUSTIN ROBIN'S SECRET by KATHARINE LEE BATES EXPEDITIONAL by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND, MASTER SHAKERLY MARMION, UPON CUPID AND PSYCHE by RICHARD BROME |