My wandering days have run their course, And Age is in my flesh and bones: Of all the temples, domes, and towers, Where have I found the richest stones? The little house where I was born, And where my early childhood lies, Was built with solid blocks of gold, And all its walls had diamond-eyes! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN TENEBRIS: 2 by THOMAS HARDY A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 27 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: A CONVENT WITHOUT GOD by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT HOLLYWOOD NOCTURNE by JANE BOWER THIS WAY FOR ROMANCE by BERTON BRALEY IN DER FREMDE by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |