They came from fierce, burnt Spain to seek for gold Upon thy shores, and with superb, strange prows Dazzled the wilderness. Their proud, swarth brows With gorgeous lust of gems and trove made bold The river folk feared as the gods of old. But, lo! thy gods awaking, the deep drowse Of death their chief assuaged of quests and vows, And him, not disillusioned, thou didst fold. No dreams of gold or jeweled glebe now force Thy stream with ships adventuring; and tho' Thy flood in yellowed opulence doth flow, 'Tis not from stain of deep, corroded treasure. Imperial indolence is thine and pleasure Of hot, long listlessness and moody course. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LONDON VOLUNTARIES: 3. SCHERZANDO by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY CENTENNIAL MEDITATION OF COLUMBIA by SIDNEY LANIER LAST AND WORST by FRANCES EKIN ALLISON EDGE by CHARLOTTE FARRINGTON BABCOCK WARPED FLOWER by SHEILA BARBOUR TEMPER by CLARA EXLINE BOCKOVEN |