I DEAR Master in our classic town, You, loved by all the younger gown There at Balliol, Lay your Plato for one minute down, II And read a Grecian tale re-told, Which, cast in later Grecian mould, Quintus Calaber Somewhat lazily handled of old; III And on this white midwinter day -- For have the far-off hymns of May, All her melodies, All her harmonies echo'd away? -- IV To-day, before you turn again To thoughts that lift the soul of men, Hear my cataract's Downward thunder in hollow and glen, V Till, led by dream and vague desire, The woman, gliding toward the pyre, Find her warrior Stark and dark in his funeral fire. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANSWER TO A CHILD'S QUESTION by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE LAMENT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON SUPER FLUMINA BABYLONIS by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON ON THE SUN COMING OUT IN THE AFTERNOON by HENRY DAVID THOREAU THE BURIED FLOWER by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN IN ANSWER TO QUESTION FROM GREEK GRAMMAR: WHAT FUTURES SPEAK by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |