A HEAP of crumbling bones, Black with old Egypt's dust and grime; A bit of shrivelled skin; And painted cloth, Brittle from years, And with bitumen stained. Was it for these, ambitious Roman, Thou the lily of pure wedded love Didst scorn to wear, That so upon thy perjured heart Might blush the crimson passion-rose of sin? Draw near! Thy hand repose Upon these dark and pulseless breasts, Hard as the lava-stones, O'er which in triumph roll'd, All drenched in blood, Thy chariot wheels, Whilst shouting hosts Rent with loud acclaim, From sea to sea, The azure heavens! Once were these crumbling bones Clothed in a woman's beauty, More fragrant than the breath of incense Burned where tinkling bells, And crystal fountains, Filled with gentle music The whispering groves of fair Dodona, And the pale-eyed priestess Breathed the hallowed air. Here rests the dark-eyed daughter of the Nile, Who nursed on golden bed, The sucking asp. Draw near, thou lover Whom the sweet-voiced poets laud! Enfold with throbbing heart The proud lascivious queen Of all thy passion and desire, For whom thou didst despise The fair Octavia in her Roman home. Thou wilt not come! The lonely shadows deepen, And from English sunset, Dull and gray as sea-blown mists, Dies the last flickering beam, And all at length is still. The visitors are gone: The doors are closed: The daughter of great Ptolemy, In the London-town, Slumbers unconscious of her shame. Where are the Cæsars, And proud Anthony of old? Their warring spirits earth defied, And Heaven. But now the meanest weed That on forsaken Actium's field Blooms for the dead, Need fear no rude alarm; The armèd hosts are gone; Their conflicts all are ended, And the fury of their wrath Is stilled forever. Draw near— None shall thy right dispute! In yonder crystal case, She who was the passion and despair Of nobler hearts than oft have ruled the world, Dishonored lies—unloved! Meanly labelled and described For vulgar eyes to scan, Her charms The vilest boor may view, And count himself More fair than she. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MILKMAID'S SONG by SYDNEY THOMPSON DOBELL THE RESPECTABLE BURGHER, ON 'THE HIGHER CRITICISM' by THOMAS HARDY WRITTEN [OR LINES] IN A YOUNG LADY'S ALBUM by THOMAS HOOD ODE IN MEMORY OF THE AMERICAN VOLUNTEERS FALLEN FOR FRANCE by ALAN SEEGER TO A CERTAIN CIVILIAN by WALT WHITMAN THE GLASSES AND THE BIBLE by ST. CLAIR ADAMS |