THE weltering London ways where children weep And girls whom none call maidens laugh,--strange road Miring his outward steps, who inly trode The bright Castalian brink and Latmos' steep:-- Even such his life's cross-paths; till deathly deep He toiled through sands of Lethe; and long pain, Weary with labour spurned and love found vain, In dead Rome's sheltering shadow wrapped his sleep. O pang-dowered Poet, whose reverberant lips And heart-strung lyre awoke the Moon's eclipse,-- Thou whom the daisies glory in growing o'er,--- Their fragrance clings around thy name, not writ But rumour'd in water, while the fame of it Along Time's flood goes echoing evermore. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHILD'S PRAYER [OR, HYMN] by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS A CRADLE SONG by PADRAIC COLUM HAIL COLUMBIA by JOSEPH HOPKINSON THE GLASSES AND THE BIBLE by ST. CLAIR ADAMS LINES FOR THE HOUR by HAMILTON FISH ARMSTRONG ON A GIFT OF FLOWERS by GUILLAUME VICTOR EMILE AUGIER |