OLD Broadbridge Pond, once on a time so deep, And full of water-lilies as could be, Is mudded now, in dull and deathly sleep; A gaping slough, a piteous injury. Hoarse brawling through some deep-wormed channels run Small streams dull as dead serpents in the sun, Roots writhed and sloven mottle everywhere And even the mid pool has no secret lair, And what seemed danger's very gateways lie Grey quagmire where the greedy moorhens ply. Not even eels could work to come agen. Poor roach and perch have perished, whose swift sides Made beautiful the bright green kingdom then, Nor any pleasure of the past abides. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIDDLERS by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE IDEA: 14. TO TIME by MICHAEL DRAYTON MARCO BOZZARIS by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK ON SENESIS' MUMMY by LEONIE ADAMS BLACK ROSES by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. THE LOUD SILENCE by SUSIE MONTGOMERY BEST PSALM 114 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |