A BIRD sings the selfsame song, With never a fault in its flow, That we listened to here those long Long years ago. A pleasing marvel is how A strain of such rapturous rote Should have gone on thus till now Unchanged in a note! -- But it's not the selfsame bird. -- No: perished to dust is he. . . . As also are those who heard That song with me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PROPHECY by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR IDYLLS OF THE KING: GERAINT AND ENID by ALFRED TENNYSON THE GODS AND THE WINDS by ALEXANDER ANDERSON FOR NOEL (WHERE A GATE SWINGS EITHER WAY) by BEULAH ALLYNE BELL PSALM 73 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |