THOU hast thy beauties: sterner ones, I own, Than those of thy precursors; yet to thee Belong the charms of solemn majesty And naked grandeur. Awful is the tone Of thy tempestuous nights, when clouds are blown By hurrying winds across the troubled sky; Pensive, when softer breezes faintly sigh Through leafless boughs, with ivy overgrown. Thou hast thy decorations too; although Thou art austere: thy studded mantle, gay With icy brilliants, which as proudly glow As erst Golconda's; and thy pure array Of regal ermine, when the drifted snow Envelopes nature; till her features seem Like pale, but lovely ones, seen when we dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER TU FU (THEY SAY YOU'RE STAYING IN A MOUNTAIN TEMPLE) by MARVIN BELL CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH UNTITLED, 1968; FOR MARK ROTHKO by JAMES GALVIN ATELIER CEZANNE by CLARENCE MAJOR |