LVI
The lagging days crawl slowly to their end,
The weeks sum up in months, and glide away,
The jolly bells proclaim it New Year’s Day,
As if they felt the wicked times would mend.
But I, alas! I see the old things wend
Under new names, with scarce a change, to say
How the fresh mortal differs from the clay
Over whose sins the pitying grasses bend.
So we, who boast our love of matchless height,
Might find like boasts were in their dusty bones;
And when beneath such dumb, sepulchral stones
Ourselves are laid forever out of sight,
Some pair may rob us of our sovereign right,
Some poet shame thy poet’s tenerest tones.
(George Henry Boker)
More Poetry from George Henry Boker:
George Henry Boker Poems based on Topics: Sense & Perception, Change, Poets, Literature- The Crossing At Fredericksbu (George Henry Boker Poems)
- Vestigia Retrorsum (George Henry Boker Poems)
- Tardy George (George Henry Boker Poems)
- March Along (George Henry Boker Poems)
- The Black Regiment (George Henry Boker Poems)
- Ad Poetas (George Henry Boker Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Sense & Perception Poems, Literature Poems, Change Poems, Poets PoemsBased on Keywords: lvi, differs