FOR ever shall she beckon. Men may prate Of custom, fashion, change, -- still doth she call To high endeavor; dreams begotten thence Turn with the day to deeds chivalric; vows Are pledged eternally before this shrine Whose taper-lights are stars, whose choristers Are souls bowed down with Beauty. Years on years But dim the garments of the worshipers, The light, the lure, are constant. All too brief Is Time wherein to follow from afar The Way of Wonder leading down to Love. Look, at the alley-end she sways and smiles, Fresh as a morn-birth, fair as paradise, -- Yet ancient as the moaning of the sea! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UTOPIA by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: HENRY MURRAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS INDIAN SUMMER by EMILY DICKINSON PARTED FRIENDS by JAMES MONTGOMERY TO MYRTILLA OF NEW YORK by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS HEART OF HAMPSHIRE by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB THE DRYAD by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |