When dark oblivion in her sable cloak Shall wrap the names of heroes and kings; And their high deeds, submitting to the stroke Of time, shall fall amongst forgotten things: Then (for the Muse that distant day can see) On Thames's bank the stranger shall arrive, With curious wish thy sacred grott to see, Thy sacred grott shall with thy name survive. Then, some small gem, or moss, or shining ore, Departing, each shall pilfer, in fond hope To please their friends on every distant shore, Boasting a relic from the cave of Pope. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEDICATION TO THE LATER SONNETS TO URANIA by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE FLOATING MORMON by KAREN SWENSON LINES ON HEARING THE ORGAN by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY THE DUG-OUT by SIEGFRIED SASSOON A DESCRIPTION OF THE MORNING by JONATHAN SWIFT |