THIS bit of polished marble, this, Was found where Athens proudly rears Its temple-crowned Acropolis So hoar with years. In antique time some sculptor's hand, Deft-turning, carved it fine and small, A part of base or column grand, Or capital. Regarding it, I mind me so A song should be, with ardor wrought, -- Cut in the firm Pentelic snow Of lofty thought! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MARCH INTO VIRGINIA by HERMAN MELVILLE LETTER TO MY SISTER by ANNE SPENCER THE TWICKENHAM AIR by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB TO THE UNITED STATES OF NORTH AMERICA by THOMAS CAMPBELL TRACKING THE NIGHT CREATURE by SCOTT CHISHOLM |