TOUCHED with the delicate green of early May, Or later, when the rose unveils her face, The world hangs glittering in star-strown space, Fresh as a jewel found but yesterday. And yet 't is very old; what tongue may say How old it is? Race follows upon race, Forgetting and forgotten; in their place Sink tower and temple; nothing long may stay. We build on tombs, and live our day, and die; From out our dust new towers and temples start; Our very name becomes a mystery. What cities no man ever heard of lie Under the glacier, in the mountain's heart, In violet glooms beneath the moaning sea! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DOUBTFUL CHOICE by EDWARD DE VERE GASCOIGNE'S WOODMANSHIP by GEORGE GASCOIGNE THE SHADOW ON THE STONE by THOMAS HARDY DAMON THE MOWER by ANDREW MARVELL CHOEPHOROI: INVOCATION OF AGAMEMNON'S GHOST by AESCHYLUS ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 6. TO WILLIAM HALL, ESQ., WITH THE WORKS OF CHAULIEU by MARK AKENSIDE |