To-days house makes to-morrows road;
I knew these heaps of stone
When they were walls of grace and might,
The countrys honour, arts delight
That over fountaind silence showd
Fames final bastion.
Inheritance has found fresh work,
Disunion union breeds;
Beauty the strong, its difference lost,
Has matter fit for flood and frost.
Heres the true blood that will not shirk
Lifes new-commanding needs.
With curious costly zeal, O man,
Raise orrery and ode;
How shines your tower, the only one
Of that especial site and stone!
And even the dreams confusion can
Sustain to-morrows road.
The Survival
written byEdmund Blunden
© Edmund Blunden