Poem: From 'The Garden Of Eros'



[In this poem the author laments the growth of materialism in the
nineteenth century. He hails Keats and Shelley and some of the
poets and artists who were his contemporaries, although his
seniors, as the torch-bearers of the intellectual life. Among
these are Swinburne, William Morris, Rossetti, and Brune-Jones.]


Nay, when Keats died the Muses still had left
One silver voice to sing his threnody, {1}
But ah! too soon of it we were bereft
When on that riven night and stormy sea
Panthea claimed her singer as her own,
And slew the mouth that praised her; since which time we walk
alone,

Save for that fiery heart, that morning star {2}
Of re-arisen England, whose clear eye
Saw from our tottering throne and waste of war
The grand Greek limbs of young Democracy
Rise mightily like Hesperus and bring
The great Republic! him at least thy love hath taught to sing,

And he hath been with thee at Thessaly,