Nettles and poppy mar each rock-hewn seat: No poet crowned with olive deathlessly Chants his glad song, nor clamorous Tragedy Startles the air; green corn is waving sweet Where once the Chorus danced to measures fleet; Far to the East a purple stretch of sea, The cliffs of gold that prisoned Danae; And desecrated Argos at my feet. No season now to mourn the days of old, A nation's shipwreck on the rocks of Time, Or the dread storms of all-devouring Fate, For now the peoples clamour at our gate, The world is full of plague and sin and crime, And God Himself is half-dethroned for Gold! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SISTER LOU by STERLING ALLEN BROWN ON MY THIRTY-THIRD BIRTHDAY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON EVENING TRAINS by MARY TRUE AYER TO A SINGING BIRD by PHILIP AYRES THE LAST MAN: RECOLLECTION OF EARLY LIFE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES PSALM 83 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |