Old memories come trooping down The vistas of the years; In blue-girt robes of pleasure clad Or garbed in tears. Down from the days when hope was young And sorrow never born, My thoughts sweep o'er remembered scenes Unto this morn. Though motley company they are Of smile or tear or frown, They hold aloft the burnished gold Of my heart's crown. For through it all and over all There gleams the light serene, On purpled walls and crimson heights In love's demesne. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPIGRAM ON MY WEDDING DAY: TO PENELOPE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON SONNET: 17 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE DYING SWAN by ALFRED TENNYSON THE OWL by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS VILLANELLE OF CITY AND COUNTRY by ZOE AKINS SONNET: LOVE'S HEIGHT by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |