Say not of me that weakly I declined The labours of my sires, and fled the sea, The towers we founded and the lamps we lit, To play at home with paper like a child. But rather say: In the afternoon of time A strenuous family dusted from its hands The sand of granite, and beholding far Along the sounding coast its pyramids And tall memorials catch the dying sun, Smiled well content, and to this childish task Around the fire addressed its evening hours. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BY THE POTOMAC by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH ON SOMETHING THAT WALKS SOMEWHERE by BEN JONSON DYING SPEECH OF AN OLD PHILOSOPHER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR TO WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER ON THE SALE BY AUCTION OF KEATS' LOVE LETTERS by OSCAR WILDE ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 11. ON LOVE - TO A FRIEND by MARK AKENSIDE AUTUMN; WRITTEN IN THE GROUNDS OF MARTIN COLE, ESQ. by BERNARD BARTON |