POUR wine and dance if manhood still have pride, Bring roses if the rose be yet in bloom; The cataract smokes upon the mountain side, Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb. Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle and clarionet That there be no foot silent in the room Nor mouth from Kissing, nor from wine unwet; Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb. In vain, in vain; the cataract still cries; The everlasting taper lights the gloom; All wisdom shut into his onyx eyes, Our Father Rosicross sleeps in his tomb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DAY-DREAM: THE SLEEPING BEAUTY by ALFRED TENNYSON FREQUENTLY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS SORCERY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH HYMN FOR ALL SAINTS DAY IN THE MORNING by HENRY ALFORD TWELVE SONNETS: 1. THY SWEETNESS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 3. THE FIRST SONG by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |