Nettles and poppy mar each rock-hewn seat: No poet crowned with olive deathlessly Chants his glad song, nor clamorous Tragedy Startles the air; green corn is waving sweet Where once the Chorus danced to measures fleet; Far to the East a purple stretch of sea, The cliffs of gold that prisoned Danae; And desecrated Argos at my feet. No season now to mourn the days of old, A nation's shipwreck on the rocks of Time, Or the dread storms of all-devouring Fate, For now the peoples clamour at our gate, The world is full of plague and sin and crime, And God Himself is half-dethroned for Gold! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MERSA by KEITH CASTELLAINE DOUGLAS PHILOMELA: PHILOMELA'S ODE [THAT SHE SANG IN HER ARBOR] by ROBERT GREENE EXODUS FOR OREGON by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 2: 3. ARBOR VITAE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE SESTET SENT TO A FRIEND WITH A VOLUME OF TENNYSON by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |