I wrought them like a targe of hammered gold On which all Troy is battling round and round; Or Circe's cup, embossed with snakes that wound Through buds and myrtles, fold on scaly fold; Or like gold coins, which Lydian tombs may hold Stamped with winged racers, in the old red ground; Or twined gold armlets from the funeral mound Of some great viking, terrible of old. I know not in what metal I have wrought; Nor whether what I fashioned will be thrust Beneath the clouds theft hide forgotten thought; But if it is of gold it will not rust; And when the time is ripe it will be brought Into the sun, and glitter through its dust. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POETS ARE BORN NOT MADE by ROBERT FROST SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: HILDRUP TUBBS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS ON ANOTHER'S SORROW, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 14 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SONNET COMPOSED ON A JOURNEY HOMEWARD by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE MIMNERMUS IN CHURCH by WILLIAM JOHNSON CORY |