I wrought them like a targe of hammered gold On which all Troy is battling round and round; Or Circe's cup, embossed with snakes that wound Through buds and myrtles, fold on scaly fold; Or like gold coins, which Lydian tombs may hold Stamped with winged racers, in the old red ground; Or twined gold armlets from the funeral mound Of some great viking, terrible of old. I know not in what metal I have wrought; Nor whether what I fashioned will be thrust Beneath the clouds theft hide forgotten thought; But if it is of gold it will not rust; And when the time is ripe it will be brought Into the sun, and glitter through its dust. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HASTY PUDDING by JOEL BARLOW THE MOSS ROSE by FRIEDRICH ADOLF KRUMMACHER TO THE REV. F.D. MAURICE by ALFRED TENNYSON RIDDLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SIR RUPERT THE FEARLESS; A LEGEND OF GERMANY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM AT CLIFTON by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE TRUCE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |