Make clear the passage to Sibylla's sight, Who with her trophy comes to crown this night; And, as herself with music shall be led, So shall she pull on with a golden thread A high vast obelisk, dedicate to Fame, Which immortality itself did frame. Raise high your voices now; like trumpets fill The room with sounds of triumph, sweet and shrill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE MEMORY OF BEN JONSON by JOHN CLEVELAND THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM, THE MURDERER by THOMAS HOOD ON THE NEW FORCES OF CONSCIENCE UNDER THE LONG PARLIAMENT by JOHN MILTON THE OLD HOKUM BUNCOMBE by ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD A PRAYER FOR A VERY NEW ANGEL by VIOLET ALLEYN STOREY PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 38 by EDWARD TAYLOR JUNGLE by RICHMOND GEORGE ANTHONY LOVE SONG by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE HON. MR. SUCKLETHUMBKIN'S STORY: THE EXECUTION; A SPORTING ANECDOTE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |