THERE was a glorious time At an epoch of my prime; Mornings beryl-bespread, And evenings golden-red; Nothing gray: And in my heart I said, 'However this chanced to be, It is too full for me, Too rare, too rapturous, rash, Its spell must close with a crash Some day!' The radiance went on Anon and yet anon, And sweetness fell around Like manna on the ground. 'I've no claim,' Said I, 'to be thus crowned: I am not worthy this: - Must it not go amiss? - Well ... let the end foreseen Come duly! - I am serene.' - And it came. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD TRAILS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON EASTER HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE FLOOD OF YEARS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT ONLY ONE MOTHER by GEORGE COOPER YESTERDAY AND TOMORROW by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR DICKENS IN CAMP by FRANCIS BRET HARTE |