RUINS
Oh, mouldy fragments of Time's eaten meal,
What luxuries once graced this dusty board?
For scent of wines in empty goblets stored;
And meaty memories these bones reveal,
They also, by their nakedness conceal
Graves which no hand hath dug, wherein is poured
The famous treasures of the Past's rich hoard;
Which, masked as friend, Death hither came to steal;—
I would the Present might thy Silence tongue;
And that each broken stone would tell its tale;
That Fancy purchase this forsaken site!
I would that all the curtains Time hath hung,
Might fall from each supporting rusty nail
And let the Past and Present here unite!
What luxuries once graced this dusty board?
For scent of wines in empty goblets stored;
And meaty memories these bones reveal,
They also, by their nakedness conceal
Graves which no hand hath dug, wherein is poured
The famous treasures of the Past's rich hoard;
Which, masked as friend, Death hither came to steal;—
I would the Present might thy Silence tongue;
And that each broken stone would tell its tale;
That Fancy purchase this forsaken site!
I would that all the curtains Time hath hung,
Might fall from each supporting rusty nail
And let the Past and Present here unite!
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