Yon happy blackbird's note the rushing wind Quells not, nor disconcerts his golden tongue, That breaks my morning dream with well-known song; How many a roaring March I've left behind, Whose blasts, all-spirited with notes and trills, Blew over peaceful England! and, ere long, Another March will come these hills among, To clash the lattices and whirl the mills: But what shall be ere then? Ambition's lust Is broad awake, and gazing from a throne But newly set, counts half the world his own; All ancient covenants aside are thrust, Old landmarks are like scratches in the dust, His eagles wave their wings, and they are gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...KATIE LEE AND WILLIE GREY by JOSIE R. HUNT ON A GREEK VASE by FRANK DEMPSTER SHERMAN THE TENDER HUSBAND: PROLOGUE by JOSEPH ADDISON AGAMEMNON: THE BEACONS by AESCHYLUS CELESTIAL HEIGHTS by ALFRED AUSTIN THE BRIDES' TRAGEDY: ACT 2, SCENE 1 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |