An Autograph Poem by James Russell Lowell
An Autograph
Rating: ★2.7
O’er the wet sands an insect crept
Ages ere man on earth was known—
And patient Time, while Nature slept,
The slender tracing turned to stone.
’T was the first autograph: and ours?
Prithee, how much of prose or song,
In league with the creative powers,
Shall ’scape Oblivion’s broom so long.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
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4/26/2024 6:49:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
