WHEN Autumn's winds denude the grove, I seek my Lecture, where it lurks 'Mid the unpublished portion of My works, And ponder, while its sheets I scan, How many years away have slipt Since first I penned that ancient manuscript. I know thee well -- nor can mistake The old accustomed pencil stroke Denoting where I mostly make A joke, -- Or where coy brackets signify Those echoes faint of classic wit Which, if a lady's present, I Omit. Though Truth enlarge her widening range, And Knowledge be with time increased, While thou, my Lecture! dost not change The least, But fixed immutable amidst The advent of a newer lore, Maintainest calmly what thou didst Before: Though still malignity avows That unsuccessful candidates To thee ascribe their frequent ploughs In Greats -- Once more for intellectual food Thou'lt serve: an added phrase or two Will make thee really just as good As new: And listening crowds, that throng the spot, Will still as usual complain That 'Here's the old familiar rot Again!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ARCHITECT (1) by KAREN SWENSON INDIAN SUMMER by SARA TEASDALE IN ROMNEY MARSH by JOHN DAVIDSON IMITATION OF CHAUCER by ALEXANDER POPE RESERVE by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 54 by ALFRED TENNYSON GOOD-BYE MY FANCY! by WALT WHITMAN |