A FEW more days in this unkind July, This moon of stormy countenance drear and wan, And you will have departed to put on The moors and mountains as a robe laid by, And brought forth dipped in nature's Tyrian dye. For me, here lingering where your light hath shone, A glamour will have passed, a glory gone; A paler earth will wear a greyer sky. Yet none the less this City as of old Shall throb with feverous heart-beats day by day: And tower and spire shall catch the dear last ray Of suns that bid adieu with kiss of gold: Thames shall roll on, as long ago he rolled: But you -- but you will then be far away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WOMAN, GALLUP, N.M. by KAREN SWENSON SOME VERSES UPON THE BURNING OF OUR HOUSE JULY 10, 1666 by ANNE BRADSTREET PICTURES OF MEMORY by ALICE CARY AT THE WEDDING MARCH by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT: SPRING by THOMAS NASHE EROTION by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE WHEN by SARAH CHAUNCEY WOOLSEY |