FROM the knoll of beeches peeping On the patterned water sleeping Stands the Chinese temple yet, Heaped with dead leaves, all alone. Faded are its amber panels, Where the channering insect channels, And the blood-red dragons fret That glared so grimly thereupon. Mother-pearl and pink shells once In formal geometricons Gemmed the arrassed inner wall, But tapestries and frieze are gone. The small robin reconnoitres, Unabashed the woodmouse loiters: Brown owls hoot at shadow-fall And deathwatch ticks and beetles drone. But I see the shamed pavilion Bright with yellow and vermilion, And, in the sun's hallucination, Squired by mandarin Corydon, Satin-sandalled Chloes glimmering, Gryphon-urns of Bohea shimmering, And the long lost generation Seems once more to be my own. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MONODY ON THE ASTOR HOUSE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE BARD'S ANNUAL DEFIANCE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS OUT A-NUTTEN by WILLIAM BARNES SILVER ANNIVERSARY by BEULAH ALLYNE BELL PSALM 23. THE SHEPHERD'S PSALM by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE I SEE A FORM, I SEE A FACE by ROBERT BURNS |