Pity, if true, What the pewterer said -- Hearts-of-gold be few. Howbeit, when snug in my bed, And the fire-light flickers and yellows, I dream of the hearts-of-gold sped -- The Falernian fellows -- Hafiz and Horace, And Beranger -- all Dexterous tumblers eluding the Fall, Fled? can be sped? But the marygold's morris Is danced o'er their head; And their memory mellows, Embalmed and becharmed, Hearts-of-gold and good fellows! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE BIRTH OF A CHILD by LOUIS UNTERMEYER CHANSON INNOCENTE: 1, FR. TULIPS by EDWARD ESTLIN CUMMINGS THE CHURCH OF A DREAM; TO BERNHARD BERENSON by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON THE LONG AGO by BENJAMIN FRANKLIN TAYLOR IN THE ROOM by JAMES THOMSON (1834-1882) OUR STATE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER CHORUS OF CLOUD-MAIDENS: STROPHE, FR. THE CLOUDS by ARISTOPHANES |