O! of the fallen most fallen, yet of the proud Proudest; sole-seated on thy tower-girt rock; Breasting for ever circling ocean's shock; With blind sea-caves for ever dinned and loud; Now sunset-gilt; now wrapt in vapoury shroud; Till distant ships -- so well thy bastions mock Primeval nature's style in joint and block -- Misdeem her ramparts, round thee bent and bowed, For thine, and on her walls, men say, have hurled The red artillery stored designed for thee: Thy wars are done! Henceforth perpetually Thou restest, like some judged, impassive world Whose sons, their probatory period past, Have left that planet void amid the vast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOLY THURSDAY, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE GARDEN DAYS: 6. AUTUMN FIRES by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON UNDERWOODS: BOOK 1: 21. REQUIEM by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 115 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE SOFTNESS OF SYBARIS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS NO PLEDGES by FLORA J. ARNSTEIN |