Yon happy blackbird's note the rushing wind Quells not, nor disconcerts his golden tongue, That breaks my morning dream with well-known song; How many a roaring March I've left behind, Whose blasts, all-spirited with notes and trills, Blew over peaceful England! and, ere long, Another March will come these hills among, To clash the lattices and whirl the mills: But what shall be ere then? Ambition's lust Is broad awake, and gazing from a throne But newly set, counts half the world his own; All ancient covenants aside are thrust, Old landmarks are like scratches in the dust, His eagles wave their wings, and they are gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 31. HER GIFTS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI TO THE ONE OF FICTIVE MUSIC by WALLACE STEVENS LACHRYMAE MUSARUM (THE DEATH OF TENNYSON) by WILLIAM WATSON EVENING by SYLVIA HORTENSE BLISS THE PROCTORSVILLE AND WINDSOR, VERMONT, STAGE by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY TALES OF THE HALL: BOOK 13. DELAY HAS DANGER by GEORGE CRABBE |