When first I home returned, and took my part Once more in rural duties, I had brought A memory stored with forms of ancient art, And faithful visions kept them in my thought; Day after day Apollo stretched his arm, And gazed in triumph, o'er our village road; While Fancy heard, aloof, the noise of harm, That reached the Python from the Archer-god. Let me not leave thee, O my Lord, for these, Nor merge in Art my Christian fealty! Through all the winsome sculptures of old Greece Keep Thou an open walk for Thee and me! No whiteness is like Thine, All-pure and good! No marble weighs against Thy precious Blood. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WHITE CASCADE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE NIGHT-PIECE: TO JULIA by ROBERT HERRICK LOST AND FOUND by GEORGE MACDONALD SONG OF THE ANGELS AT THE NATIVITY by NAHUM TATE AMONG THE HEATHER by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM |