If genius, turned to sordid ends Ye count to glory lost, How with mankind that flouts the aims Time's Attic years engrossed? Waxes the world so rich and old? Richer and narrower, age's way? But, primal fervors all displaced Our arts but serve the clay. This plaint the sibyls unconsoled renew: Man fell from Edem, fall from Athens too. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONGS FOR MY MOTHER: 2. HER HANDS by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH AELLA: MINSTREL'S MARRIAGE-SONG by THOMAS CHATTERTON DEATH OF STONEWALL JACKSON by HENRY LYNDEN FLASH EROTION by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE FABLE: 16 by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT |