THE sacred keep of Ilion is rent By shaft and pit; foiled waters wander slow Through plains where Simois and Scamander went To war with Gods and heroes long ago. Not yet to tired Cassandra, lying low In rich Mycenæ, do the Fates relent: The bones of Agamemnon are a show And ruined is his royal monument. The dust and awful treasures of the Dead, Hath Learning scattered wide, but vainly thee, Homer, she meteth with her tool of lead, And strives to rend thy songs; too blind to see The crown that burns on thine immortal head Of indivisible supremacy! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...APOLLO AT LAX by KAREN SWENSON PALABRAS CARINOSAS (SPANISH AIR) by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE LOCKLESS DOOR by ROBERT FROST HABEAS CORPUS by HELEN MARIA HUNT FISKE JACKSON FATHER LAND AND MOTHER TONGUE by SAMUEL LOVER |