WOULD that our scrupulous Sires had dared to leave Less scanty measure of those graceful rites And usages, whose due return invites A stir of mind too natural to deceive; Giving to Memory help when she would weave A crown for Hope! -- I dread the boasted lights That all too often are but fiery blights, Killing the bud o'er which in vain we grieve. Go, seek, when Christmas snows discomfort bring, The counter Spirit found in some gay church Green with fresh holly, every pew a perch In which the linnet or the thrush might sing, Merry and loud and safe from prying search, Strains offered only to the genial Spring. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INEBRIATE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE GOOD GREAT MAN by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE PAST AND PRESENT by ROWLAND EYLES EGERTON-WARBURTON BEFORE ACTION by WILLIAM NOEL HODGSON ODE TO SILENCE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY WINTER, FR. LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE TO THE STATES. TO IDENTIFY THE 16TH, 17TH, OR 18TH PRESIDENTIAD by WALT WHITMAN |