POUR wine and dance if manhood still have pride, Bring roses if the rose be yet in bloom; The cataract smokes upon the mountain side, Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb. Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle and clarionet That there be no foot silent in the room Nor mouth from Kissing, nor from wine unwet; Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb. In vain, in vain; the cataract still cries; The everlasting taper lights the gloom; All wisdom shut into his onyx eyes, Our Father Rosicross sleeps in his tomb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EXAMPLE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES ON STURMINSTER FOOT-BRIDGE by THOMAS HARDY PROPERZIA ROSSI by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS AULD ROBIN GRAY by ANNE LINDSAY TWO WOMEN by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS A PUBLIC DANCE by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |