|
|
To Professor Jebb
By Alfred Lord Tennyson
Fair things are slow to fade away,
Bear witness you, that yesterday1
From out the Ghost of Pindar inyou
Roll’d an Olympian; and they say2
That here the torpid mummy wheat
Of Egypt bore a grain as sweet
As that which gilds the glebe of England,
Sunn’d with a summer of milder heat.
So may this legend for awhile,
If greeted by your classic smile,
Tho’ dead in its Trinacrian Enna,
Blossom again on a colder isle.
Extra Info:
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 1035 times.
|
|
