STREW not earth with empty stars,
Strew it not with roses,
Nor feathers from the crest of Mars,
Nor summer’s idle posies.
‘Tis not the primrose-sandalled moon,
Nor cold and silent morn,
Nor he that climbs the dusty noon,
Nor mower war with scythe that drops,
Stuck with helmed and turbaned tops
Of enemies new shorn.
Ye cups, ye lyres, ye trumpets know,
Pour your music, let it flow,
‘Tis Bacchus’ son who walks below.
(Thomas Lovell Beddoes)
More Poetry from Thomas Lovell Beddoes:
Thomas Lovell Beddoes Poems based on Topics: Music, Enemy- From "Torrismond" - In A Garden By Moonlight (Thomas Lovell Beddoes Poems)
- A Clock Striking Midnight (Thomas Lovell Beddoes Poems)
- Ballad Of Human Life (Thomas Lovell Beddoes Poems)
- A ho! A ho! (song ) (Thomas Lovell Beddoes Poems)
- Old Adam, the Carrion Crow (Thomas Lovell Beddoes Poems)
- A Cypress-Bough, and A Rose-Wreath Sweet ( song ) (Thomas Lovell Beddoes Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Music Poems, Enemy PoemsBased on Keywords: helmed, turbaned