Old Sarum sleeps, But one by one or Two by two, the Deans And Bishops bold Creep back into The sheltering Fold, Finding within The ancient time-worn shell Of ritual, Morning and evening prayer And sacerdotal bliss, An effulgence as of Ecstasy thrown back To them more precious Than efforts new and crude, Destined to decay Nourished in too dry a soil. Amidst the fustiness Of pomp and power, and tea, A few keen minds dart Swift and sure, and listen eagerly To catch the vast murmuring Of the many Minds and hearts, And guide or follow -- Which or where It matters not, For mostly we take tea. Old Sarum sleeps, And mostly we take tea. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUT NOT TO ME by SARA TEASDALE BATTLE-CRIES by LOUIS UNTERMEYER TWO FUNERALS: 2. by LOUIS UNTERMEYER EPISTLE TO WILLIAM SIMPSON OF OCHILTREE by ROBERT BURNS THE RIVER OF LIFE by THOMAS CAMPBELL BLUEBEARD'S CLOSET by ROSE TERRY COOKE TRULY GREAT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE GREENWOOD SHRIFT; GEORGE III AND A DYING WOMAN IN WINDSOR FOREST by ROBERT SOUTHEY |