Make clear the passage to Sibylla's sight, Who with her trophy comes to crown this night; And, as herself with music shall be led, So shall she pull on with a golden thread A high vast obelisk, dedicate to Fame, Which immortality itself did frame. Raise high your voices now; like trumpets fill The room with sounds of triumph, sweet and shrill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEAUTY ROHTRAUT by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE MARSYAS by CHARLES GEORGE DOUGLAS ROBERTS TO WORDSWORTH by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE by ALFRED TENNYSON THE FALL OF JERUSALEM by ALFRED TENNYSON |