POET and Friend! Pause while the bells of Time Ring out this great division of your days, And let the cadence of these sombre plays Be the grave echo of their silver chime; And as you slowly up to glory climb, Nigh fainting in the lower thorny ways, Take solace from the eternal wreath of bays That crowns at last this weary brow sublime; His was a soul whose calm intensity Glared, shadeless, at the passion-sun that blinds, Unblinded, till the storm of song arose; -- Even as the patient and Promethean sea Tosses in sleep, until the vulture winds Swoop down and tear the breast of its repose. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHILDE ROLAND TO THE DARK TOWER CAME' by ROBERT BROWNING THE PRIVATE OF THE BUFFS; OR, THE BRITISH SOLDIER IN CHINA by FRANCIS HASTINGS CHARLES DOYLE A UTILITARIAN VIEW OF THE MONITOR'S FIGHT by HERMAN MELVILLE ARNOLD [VON] WINKELRIED by JAMES MONTGOMERY ICHABOD by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SPRING'S UNFOLDING by IRENE ARCHER A WORD TO THE WEST END by THOMAS ASHE THE FIGHT WITH THE SNAPPING TURTLE; OR, THE AMERICAN ST. GEORGE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |