THE years go by, old Friend! Each, as it fleets, Moves to a farther, fairer realm, the time When first we twain the pleasant land of Rhyme Discovered, choosing side by side our seats Below our separate Gods: in midnight streets And haunted attics flattered by the chime Of silver words, and, fed by faith sublime, I Shelley's mantle wore, you that of Keats, -- Dear dreams, that marked the Muse's childhood then, Nor now to be disowned! The years go by; The clear-eyed Goddess flatters us no more; And yet, I think, in soberer aims of men, And Song's severer service, you and I Are nearer, dearer, faithfuller than before. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SERVANT TO SERVANTS by ROBERT FROST MONDAY'S CHILD by MOTHER GOOSE VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1876 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI WRESTLING JACOB by CHARLES WESLEY TO A SISTER OF CHARITY by EDWIN GEORGE ALEXANDER WORLDLY PLACE by MATTHEW ARNOLD |