Borgia, thou once wert almost too august And high for adoration; now thou'rt dust. All that remains of thee these plaits unfold -- Calm hair, meandering in pellucid gold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS by HENRY GLASSFORD BELL IDYLL 1. LAMENT FOR ADONIS by BION THE REAR-GUARD by SIEGFRIED SASSOON DOROTHY IN THE GARRET by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE MY LOYAL LOVE by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |