O VANISHED morn of crimson and of gold, O youth and roselight and romance, wherein I read of paynim and of paladin, And Beauty snatched from ogre's dungeoned hold! Ever the recreant, then, in dust was rolled, Ever the true knight in the joust did win, Ever the scaly shape of monstrous Sin At last lay vanquished, fold on writhing fold. Was it all false, that world of princely deeds, The splendid quest, the good fight ringing clear? Yonder the Dragon ramps with fiery gorge, Yonder the victim faints and gasps and bleeds; But in his merry England our St. George Sleeps a dull sleep, beside his idle spear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MATRES DOLOROSAE by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES ODE TO TOBACCO by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMASSE EVE by ROBERT HERRICK A BALLAD OF TREES AND THE MASTER by SIDNEY LANIER MADONNA OF THE EVENING FLOWERS by AMY LOWELL |