TREASURE not so the forlorn days When dun clouds flooded the naked plains With foul remorseless rains; Tread not those memory ways Where by the dripping alien farms, Starved orchards with their shrivelled arms, The bitter mouldering wind would whine At the brisk mules clattering towards the Line. Remember not with so sharp skill Each chasm in the clouds that strange with fire Lit pyramid-fosse and spire Miles on miles from our hill; In the magic glass, aye, then their lure Like heaven's houses gleaming pure Might soothe the long-imprisoned sight And put the double storm to flight. Enact not you so like a wheel The round of evenings in sandbagged rooms Where candles flicked the glooms; The jests old time could steal From ugly destiny, on whose brink The poor fools grappled fear with drink, And snubbed the hungry raving guns With endless tunes on gramophones. About you spreads the world anew, The old fields all for your sense rejoice, Music has found her ancient voice, From the hills there's heaven on earth to view; And kindly Mirth will raise his glass With you to bid dull Care go pass -- And still you wander muttering on Over the shades of shadows gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES WRITTEN AT THE GRAVE OF ALEXANDER DUMAS by GWENDOLYN B. BENNETT ASOLANDO: NOW by ROBERT BROWNING ROBIN REDBREAST by GEORGE WASHINGTON DOANE A THANKSGIVING TO GOD [FOR HIS HOUSE] by ROBERT HERRICK SPELT FROM SIBYL'S LEAVES by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS SACRIFICE by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL ON THE MEDUSA OF LEONARDO DA VINCI IN THE FLORENTINE GALLERY by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY |