When passing by a silver shop I always feel inclined to stop Just to admire the pieces there, And think what skill, what patient care Those master workmen used to give Their lovely craft to make it live. They had the genius to impart Immortal gladness to their art. What fancies came at their command, What magic waited on their hand, When here they shaped in silver bright These things to last for our delight! "Ah, those," I murmur, "were the days!" Then Gladys at my elbow says, Giving my arm a little squeeze, "They were not half as good as these!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DESERT by PATRICK JOHN MCALISTER ANDERSON AN EXPOSTULATION WITH LOVE by PHILIP AYRES CHARACTERS: SARAH RIGBY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD R.C. DALLAS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON LIKE ONE I KNOW by NANCY CAMPBELL ON SEEING A DROWNING MOTH by ALICE CARY |