WHERE, oh where are the visions of morning, Fresh as the dews of our prime? Gone, like tenants that quit without warning, Down the back entry of time. Where, oh where are life's lilies and roses, Nursed in the golden dawn's smile? Dead as the bulrushes round little Moses, On the old banks of the Nile. Where are the Marys, and Anns, and Elizas, Loving and lovely of yore? Look in the columns of old Advertisers, -- Married and dead by the score. Where the gray colts and the ten-year-old fillies, Saturday's triumph and joy? Gone, like our friend Achilles, Homer's ferocious old boy. Die-away dreams of ecstatic emotion, Hopes like young eagles at play, Vows of unheard-of and endless devotion, How ye have faded away! Yet, though the ebbing of Time's mighty river Leave our young blossoms to die, Let him roll smooth in his current forever, Till the last pebble is dry. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAST LINES OF THOMAS INGOLDSBY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE VIRGIN'S SLUMBER SONG by JOSEPH FRANCIS CARLIN MACDONNELL THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 10. THE PORTRAIT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI REPRISALS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A SONG OF APPLE-BLOOM by GORDON BOTTOMLEY OUR FIFTY-FIFTH; 1843-1897 by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER THE NEW VICAR OF BRAY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 25 by THOMAS CAMPION TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. NOT FOR A FEW MONTHS OR YEARS by EDWARD CARPENTER |