Young tourist to the land whose hope has passed! Fain would I seek with thee those shores sublime That hear no promise from the lips of Time, Of hours so bright as those He overcast! There is that Athens! still in ruin fair, Though long gone by her intellectual reign; Arcadia waits in patient beauty there, To hear her lingering shepherd's voice again! Too oft our travellers ply a clumsy art Here in the West! No faithful light they lend; But keep the dues of Fame so ill apart, That the great claims of mount and valley blend; Misname the passes with incurious ease, And mix the records of the plashing seas! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE'S APOTHEOSIS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR GRAY MOOD by MARJORIE AKERMAN B. IN THE FOREST by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS DECEMBER by ELIZABETH V. AUVACHE SORROWS AND CONSOLATIONS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD WALT WHITMAN by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |