ON to Iona! -- What can she afford To 'us' save matter for a thoughtful sigh, Heaved over ruin with stability In urgent contrast? To diffuse the WORD (Thy Paramount, mighty Nature! and Time's Lord) Her Temples rose, 'mid pagan gloom; but why, Even for a moment, has our verse deplored Their wrongs, since they fulfilled their destiny? And when, subjected to a common doom Of mutability, those far-famed Piles Shall disappear from both the sister Isles, Iona's Saints, forgetting not past days, Garlands shall wear of amaranthine bloom, While heaven's vast sea of voices chants their praise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INFERENTIAL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE CONQUERED BANNER by ABRAM JOSEPH RYAN THE DAY-DREAM: THE SLEEPING BEAUTY by ALFRED TENNYSON CROSSING BROOKLYN FERRY by WALT WHITMAN THE DARKNESS OF EGYPT by MARIA ABDY |