O'ER the wet sands an insect crept Ages ere man on earth was known-- And patient Time, while Nature slept, The slender tracing turned to stone. 'T was the first autograph: and ours? Prithee, how much of prose or song, In league with the creative powers, Shall 'scape Oblivion's broom so long? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ROME. AT THE PYRAMID OF CESTIUS NEAR THE GRAVES OF SHELLEY by THOMAS HARDY A WHITE ROSE by JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY THE WINGED WORSHIPPERS; ADDRESSED TO TWO SWALLOWS .. DURING SERVICE by CHARLES SPRAGUE THE GIFT by ALICE EWING BLACKWELL THAT'S HER PRIVILEGE by BERTON BRALEY |