I sit and wait a pair of oars On cis-Elysian river-shores. Where the immortal dead have sate, 'Tis mine to sit and meditate; To re-ascend life's rivulet, Without remorse, without regret; And sing my @3Alma Genetrix@1 Among the willows of the Styx. And lo, as my serener soul Did these unhappy shores patrol, And wait with an attentive ear The coming of the gondolier, Your fire-surviving roll I took, Your spirited and happy book; Whereon, despite my frowning fate, It did my soul so recreate That all my fancies fled away On a Venetian holiday. Now, thanks to your triumphant care, Your pages clear as April air, The sails, the bells, the birds, I know, And the far-off Friulan snow; The land and sea, the sun and shade, And the blue even lamp-inlaid. For this, for these, for all, O friend, For your whole book from end to end -- For Paron Piero's mutton-ham -- I your defaulting debtor am. Perchance, reviving, yet may I To your sea-paven city hie, And in a @3felze@1, some day yet Light at your pipe my cigarette. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VICTORY IN DEFEAT by EDWIN MARKHAM AN OLD MAN'S WINTER NIGHT by ROBERT FROST IMPRESSIONS: LA FUITE DE LA LUNE by OSCAR WILDE FUNERAL by ETHEL SKIPTON BARRINGER PSALM 119 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |