Night: and London's ancient hallows Flaming like so many tallows, Smoking to the sky and writing Volumes of a dire inditing:— "Fiend, not fire, hold in abhorrence, On my gridiron cry I Laurence." "Stephen, keep thy namesakes whole, man— Brother Walbrook, brother Coleman." "Who would boast of beauty's pride Look on me, the blackened Bride." "Never earthly kingdom trust in, I enjoin you, I Augustine." "How precarious man's estate Know I Giles of Cripplegate." "Liberties how vain, and charters, Magnus I and other martyrs." Day: and on his wonted hill Stands the warder Martin still; Votaresses yet there be— Margaret Pattens, Catherine Cree; Nor hath any bitter draught Borne down Andrew Undershaft. And though everywhere of twain One be left, the other ta'en, Pitched on his old camping-ground Spreads the great Tent-maker's round. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BURIAL OF BOSTON CORBETT (ONE WARDEN TO ANOTHER) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE RESOLVE by ALEXANDER BROME VAIN TEARS, FR. THE QUEEN OF CORINTH by JOHN FLETCHER THE CHURCH WINDOWS by GEORGE HERBERT |