I MY ardours for emprize nigh lost Since Life has bared its bones to me, I shrink to seek a modern coast Whose riper times have yet to be; Where the new regions claim them free From that long drip of human tears Which peoples old in tragedy Have left upon the centuried years. II For, wonning in these ancient lands, Enchased and lettered as a tomb, And scored with prints of perished hands, And chronicled with dates of doom, Though my own Being bear no bloom I trace the lives such scenes enshrine, Give past exemplars present room, And their experience count as mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DREAMER by SHAEMAS O'SHEEL WHEN SHE COMES HOME by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY COLUMBUS [JANUARY, 1487] by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY A JAPANESE FAN by MARGARET VELEY JANUARY MORNING by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS FOOTLIGHT MOTIFS: 2. PHOEBE FOSTER by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |