O rock-ribbed city of the western sea, Who could not tune his lyre in song for thee? With solemn castles gazing out across the sea, With grand Olympics smiling back at thee, You float in Nipon's soft salubrious breeze, A tropic island in the northern seas, A full-blown rose of old Victorian days, And loath to leave your cherished mother's ways. Enriched with all the century can give, You still take time to think and feel and live. As a ripple in a treasure-laden stream Gathers the gold-dust born through shade and gleam, So thou hast sifted well the flowing tide Of ruthless Western wealth and Eastern pride. Upon the "Lion's" mane you safely cling Nor fear the rustle of the "Eagle's" wing. O portal fair to Yukon's oil and gold, Prize well the envied vantage ground you hold! O seagirt goddess rich in mead and mine, Guard well "Britannia's far-flung battle line!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SESTINA: 1. OF THE LADY PIETRA DEGLI SCROVIGNI by DANTE ALIGHIERI SCHUBERT'S (UNFINISHED) SYMPHONY by FRANCES BARTLETT A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 22 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 40 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH CAELIA: SONNETS: 3 by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |