Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream? For these red lips, with all their mournful pride, Mournful that no new wonder may betide, Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam, And Usna's children died. We and the labouring world are passing by: Amid men's souls, that waver and give place, Like the pale waters in their wintry race, Under the passing stars, foam of the sky, Lives on this lonely face. Bow down, archangels, in your dim abode: Before you were, or any hearts to beat, Weary and kind one lingered by His seat; He made the world to be a grassy road Before her wandering feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE SOUTH ON ITS NEW SLAVERY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR RIFLEMAN FORM! by ALFRED TENNYSON A BROADWAY PAGEANT by WALT WHITMAN THE RAINBOW [IN THE SKY] by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH FULFILLMENT by CLARIBEL WEEKS AVERY THE DEAD CHILD by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) WHAT MAKES A NATION GREAT? by ALEXANDER BLACKBURN |