BY THOR WALDSEN, IN TRINITY COLLEGE LIBRARY, CAMBRIDGE And near thee hangs a page, in boyhood penn'd, When all thy thoughts were, like thy marble, pure; When thou hadst none but little faults to mend, In Lochnagar's cool shadow still secure From praise or slander; but thy brilliant youth And manhood soon took tribute of thy kind; Great artists then thy lineaments designed, And, last, the Dane's fine chisel struck the truth; And, when the current of the breath of fame Drew up all relics of the master's craft, This little page, - we know not whence it came, - Ran flitting forward in the mighty draught, And, placed at last, where it was fain to be, Shares our fond gaze between itself and thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 1 by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS THE SUGAR-PLUM TREE by EUGENE FIELD THREE BLIND MICE by MOTHER GOOSE A NIGHT-PIECE ON DEATH by THOMAS PARNELL LOCHABER NO MORE by ALLAN RAMSAY |