Now all's over, of course, And small thanks to the sculptor, England, for thy horse. Let the bronze be cast, And small thanks to the sculptor: He's slighted the public taste. Now that our judgment's passed They're sure to curse us for ever: Colonels, to prove themselves clever, Will damn us, and generals blast. Let the bronze be cast: While an angry people, aghast, Condemn in vain our fatal choice Strong in the sense of a common voice, Null, but assured, in taste. Let the bronze be cast, | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO-MORROW IS MY BIRTHDAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FOR THE FALLEN (SEPTEMBER 1914) by LAURENCE BINYON AND WHAT SHALL YOU SAY? by JOSEPH SEAMON COTTER JR. DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 3. FULL MOON by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER HIS PRAYER FOR ABSOLUTION by ROBERT HERRICK QUATRAIN: OMAR KHAYYAM (AFTER FITZGERALD) by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |