Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON HIS 'SONNETS OF THE WINGLESS HOURS', by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON HIS 'SONNETS OF THE WINGLESS HOURS', by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: I wrought them like a targe of hammered gold
Last Line: Into the sun, and glitter through its dust.
Subject(s): Poetry & Poets; Sonnet (as Literary Form); Thought; Thinking


I wrought them like a targe of hammered gold
On which all Troy is battling round and round;
Or Circe's cup, embossed with snakes that wound
Through buds and myrtles, fold on scaly fold;
Or like gold coins, which Lydian tombs may hold
Stamped with winged racers, in the old red ground;
Or twined gold armlets from the funeral mound
Of some great viking, terrible of old.
I know not in what metal I have wrought;
Nor whether what I fashioned will be thrust
Beneath the clouds theft hide forgotten thought;
But if it is of gold it will not rust;
And when the time is ripe it will be brought
Into the sun, and glitter through its dust.




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