MILTON! I think thy spirit hath passed away From these white cliffs, and high-embattled towers; This gorgeous fiery-coloured world of ours Seems fallen into ashes dull and grey, And the age changed unto a mimic play Wherein we waste our else too-crowded hours: For all our pomp and pageantry and powers We are but fit to delve the common clay, Seeing this little isle on which we stand, This England, this sea-lion of the sea, By ignorant demagogues is held in fee, Who love her not: Dear God! is this the land Which bare a triple empire in her hand When Cromwell spake the word Democracy! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PURSUIT OF THE WORD by ROBERT FROST THE JOBHOLDER by DAVID IGNATOW THE CREATION by CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER SONNET TO GEORGE SAND: 2. A DESIRE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE HERONS OF ELMWOOD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE PILLAR OF THE CLOUD by JOHN HENRY NEWMAN NORTH-WEST PASSAGE: 1. GOOD NIGHT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 40. PANTHEISTIC DREAMS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |