To mortal men Peace giveth these good things: Wealth, and the flowers of honey-throated song; The flame that springs On craven altars from fat sheep and kine, Slain to the gods in heaven; and, all day long, Games for glad youths, and flutes, and wreaths and circling wine. Then in the steely shield swart spiders weave Their web and dusky woof: Rust to the pointed spear and sword doth cleave; The brazen trump sounds no alarms; Nor is sleep harried from our eyes aloof, But with sweet rest my bosom warms: The streets are thronged with lovely men and young, And hymns in praise of boys like flames to heaven are flung. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PROPER NEW BALLAD [ENTITLED THE FAIRIES' FAREWELL] by RICHARD CORBET A LITTLE DUTCH GARDEN by HARRIET WHITNEY DURBIN THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 34. THE DARK GLASS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI IMAGINATION, FR. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |