MINUTES are flying swiftly, and as yet Nothing unearthly has enticed my brain Into a delphic Labyrinth--I would fain Catch an unmortal thought to pay the debt I owe to the kind Poet who has set Upon my ambitious head a glorious gain. Two bending laurel Sprigs--'tis nearly pain To be conscious of such a Coronet. Still time is fleeting, and no dream arises Gorgeous as I would have it--only I see A Trampling down of what the world most prizes Turbans and Crowns, and blank regality; And then I run into most wild surmises Of all the many glories that may be. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RESURRECTION, IMPERFECT by JOHN DONNE A DEAD HARVEST (IN KENSINGTON GARDENS) by ALICE MEYNELL IN PRAISE OF OLD AGE by ANAXANDRIDES THE ICE CAGE by JAMES METHVEN BALLANTYNE LULLABY IN BETHLEHEM by HENRY HOWARTH BASHFORD THE TREE by BJORNSTJERNE MARTINIUS BJORNSON THE IDLERS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN PARLEYINGS WITH CERTAIN PEOPLE OF IMPORTANCE: GERARD DE LAIRESSE by ROBERT BROWNING |