IT was an ancient monarch Ruled where the Rhine doth flow, And nought he loved so little As sorrow, feud, and woe; His warriors they were striving For a treasure in the land; In sooth they near had perished Each by his brother's hand. Then spake he to the nobles: "What boots this gold," he said, "If with the finder's life-blood The price thereof is paid? The gold, to end the quarrel, Cast to the Rhine away; There lie the treasure hidden, Till dawns the latest day!" The proud ones took the treasure, And cast it to the main; I ween it all hath melted, So long it there hath lain: But, wedded to the waters That long have o'er it rolled, It clothes the swelling vineyards With yellow gleam, like gold. Oh, that each man were minded, As thought this monarch good, That never care might alter His high, courageous mood! Then deeply would we bury Our sorrows in the Rhine, And, glad of heart and grateful, Would quaff his fiery wine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GRENADIER by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN FIRST ICE by KENNETH SLADE ALLING MARCH MADNESS ON EDGEWATER HILL by BEULAH ALLYNE BELL MUSE IN LATE NOVEMBER by JONATHAN HENDERSON BROOKS SONNET ON THE NUPTIALS OF THE MARQUIS ANTONIO CAVALLI by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |