AROUND this lichened home of hoary peace, Invulnerable in its glassy moat, A breath of ghostly summers seems to float And murmur mid the immemorial trees. The tender slopes, where cattle browse at ease, Swell softly, like a pigeon's emerald throat; And, self-oblivious, Time forgets to note The flight of velvet-footed centuries. The very sunlight hushed within the close, Sleeps indolently by the Yew's slow shade; Still as a relic some old Master made The jewelled peacock's rich enamel glows; And on yon mossy wall that youthful rose Blooms like a rose that never means to fade. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COLUMBIAN ODE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO PFRIMMER (LINES ON READING 'DRIFTWOOD') by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR HOW WE BEAT THE FAVOURITE by ADAM LINDSAY GORDON SONNET: THE EVENING STAR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SORDELLO: BOOK 5 by ROBERT BROWNING |