MEN sought, ambition's thirst to slake, The lost elixir old Whose magic touch should instant make The meaner metals gold. A nobler alchymy is thine Which love from pain doth press: Gold in thy hand becomes divine, Grows truth and tenderness. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER THE RAIN by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH MEMORABILIA by ROBERT BROWNING PORTRAIT D'UNE FEMME by EZRA POUND IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 104 by ALFRED TENNYSON SONNET FROM JAPAN: 1. THE SPELL by ADELAIDE NICHOLS BAKER THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: ASTARTE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |