I MY ardours for emprize nigh lost Since Life has bared its bones to me, I shrink to seek a modern coast Whose riper times have yet to be; Where the new regions claim them free From that long drip of human tears Which peoples old in tragedy Have left upon the centuried years. II For, wonning in these ancient lands, Enchased and lettered as a tomb, And scored with prints of perished hands, And chronicled with dates of doom, Though my own Being bear no bloom I trace the lives such scenes enshrine, Give past exemplars present room, And their experience count as mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SCHOOLS OF LITTLE FISH by MARVIN BELL THREE SONNETS by RICHARD WILBUR CITIES OF THE PLAIN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DR. SCUDDER'S CLINICAL LECTURE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: IMANUEL EHRENHARDT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |