No, my own love of other years! No, it must never be. Much rests with you that yet endears, Alas! but what with me? Could those bright years o'er me revolve So gay, o'er you so fair, The pearl of life we would dissolve, And each the cup might share. You show that truth can ne'er decay, Whatever fate befalls; I, that the myrtle and the bay Shoot fresh on ruined walls. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ETHELSTAN: RUNILDA'S CHANT by GEORGE DARLEY HYMN: FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY: 2 by REGINALD HEBER THE STORY OF AUGUSTUS WHO WOULD NOT HAVE ANY SOUP by HEINRICH HOFFMANN THE CONFLICT OF CONVICTIONS by HERMAN MELVILLE HENRY HUDSON'S QUEST [1609] by BURTON EGBERT STEVENSON THE PALACE OF ART by ALFRED TENNYSON THE COLD WAVE OF 32 B.C. by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 5. THE LOCH by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM TO BARON DE STONNE WITH AIKIN'S ESSAYS ON SONG-WRITING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |