THE calm of evening o'er the dark pine-wood Lay with an aureate glow, as we explored Thy classic precincts, hallow'd Abbotsford! And at thy porch in admiration stood: We felt thou wert the work, th' abode of Him Whose fame hath shed a lustre on our age, The mightiest of the mighty!—o'er whose page Thousands shall hang, until Time's eye grow dim; And then we thought, when shall have pass'd away The millions now pursuing life's career, And Scott himself is dust, how, lingering here, Pilgrims from all the lands of earth shall stray Amid thy cherish'd ruins, and survey The scenes around, with reverential fear! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 10. STRESA by SARA TEASDALE A RENUNCIATION by EDWARD DE VERE BEN BOLT by THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH HIS CAVALIER by ROBERT HERRICK TO ANTHEA [WHO MAY COMMAND HIM ANYTHING] by ROBERT HERRICK SUNKEN GOLD by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON EXILED by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY |