TIME, as he courses onward, still unrolls The volume of Concealment. In the future, As in the optician's glassy cylinder, The indistinguishable blots and colours Of the dim past collect and shape themselves, Upstarting in their own completed image To scare or to reward. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IT IS FINISHED' by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI LINES WRITTEN ON HEARING THE NEWS OF THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY DIRGE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH BLACK ROSES by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. BE STILL, MY SOUL by ARCHILOCHUS IN ENVY OF COWS by JOSEPH AUSLANDER PIRATE TREASURE by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |