When first I home returned, and took my part Once more in rural duties, I had brought A memory stored with forms of ancient art, And faithful visions kept them in my thought; Day after day Apollo stretched his arm, And gazed in triumph, o'er our village road; While Fancy heard, aloof, the noise of harm, That reached the Python from the Archer-god. Let me not leave thee, O my Lord, for these, Nor merge in Art my Christian fealty! Through all the winsome sculptures of old Greece Keep Thou an open walk for Thee and me! No whiteness is like Thine, All-pure and good! No marble weighs against Thy precious Blood. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CRYSTAL GAZER by SARA TEASDALE THERE IS NO NATURAL RELIGION (A) by WILLIAM BLAKE CALIBAN UPON SETEBOS; OR, NATURAL THEOLOGY IN THE ISLAND by ROBERT BROWNING TO A DOG'S MEMORY by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY WHY THUS LONGING by HARRIET WINSLOW SEWALL LYNCHED NEGRO by MAXWELL BODENHEIM TRITON ESURIENS by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |