Gloomy grammarians in golden gowns, Meekly you keep the mortal rendezvous, Eliciting the still sustaining pomps Of speech which are like music so profound They seem an exaltation without sound. Funest philosophers and ponderers, Their evocations are the speech of clouds. So speech of your processionals returns In the casual evocations of your tread Across the stale, mysterious seasons. These Are the music of meet resignation; these The responsive, still sustaining pomps for you To magnify, if in that drifting waste You are to be accompanied by more Than mute bare splendors of the sun and moon. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO THE JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY by SIDNEY LANIER FRAGMENT, ON THE BACK OF THE POET'S MS. OF CANTO I OF 'DON JUAN' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON STRANGE HURT [SHE KNOWS] by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES SONNET WRITTEN IN DISGUST OF VULGAR SUPERSTITION by JOHN KEATS MY LIFE by HENRY DAVID THOREAU MY NATIVE LAND by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |