Reading Time: < 1 minute

Poem

It is an honorable thought,
And makes one lift one’s hat,
As one encountered gentlefolk
Upon a daily street,

That we’ve immortal place,
Though pyramids decay,
And kingdoms, like the orchard,
Flit russetly away.

Previous Poem
It Dropped So Low In My Regard
Next Poem
It Knew No Lapse, Nor Diminuation