Oliver Wendell Holmes
The Broken Circle
I STOOD On Sarum's treeless plain,
The waste that careless Nature owns;
Lone tenants of her bleak domain,
Loomed huge and gray the Druid stones.
Upheaved in many a billowy mound
The sea-like, naked turf arose,
Where wandering flocks went nibbling round
The mingled graves of friends and foes.
The Briton, Roman, Saxon, Dane,
This windy desert roamed in turn;
Unmoved these mighty blocks remain
Whose story none that lives may learn.
Erect, half buried, slant or prone,
These awful listeners, blind and dumb,
Hear the strange tongues of tribes unknown,
As wave on wave they go and come.
'Who are you, giants, whence and why?'
I stand and ask in blank amaze;
My soul accepts their mute reply
'A mystery, as are you that gaze.
'A silent Orpheus wrought the charm
From riven rocks their spoils to bring;
A nameless Titan lent his arm
To range us in our magic ring.
'But Time with still and stealthy stride,
That climbs and treads and levels all,
That bids the loosening keystone slide,
And topples down the crumbling wall,--
'Time, that unbuilds the quarried past,
Leans on these wrecks that press the sod;
They slant, they stoop, they fall at last,
And strew the turf their priests have trod.
'No more our altar's wreath of smoke
Floats up with morning's fragrant dew;
The fires are dead, the ring is broke,
Where stood the many stand the few.'
My thoughts had wandered far away,
Borne off on Memory's outspread wing,
To where in deepening twilight lay
The wrecks of friendship's broken ring.
Ah me! of all our goodly train
How few will find our banquet hall!
Yet why with coward lips complain
That this must lean, and that must fall?
Cold is the Druid's altar-stone,
Its vanished flame no more returns;
But ours no chilling damp has known,--
Unchanged, unchanging, still it burns.
So let our broken circle stand
A wreck, a remnant, yet the same,
While one last, loving, faithful hand
Still lives to feed its altar-flame!
Oliver Wendell Holmes's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Broken Circle by Oliver Wendell Holmes )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(22 March 1941 -)
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Mother to Son, Langston Hughes
- I, Too, Langston Hughes
- As I Grew Older, Langston Hughes
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- [®XLIX~]Watch Super Bowl 2015 (49) Live.., Renz Barns
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
Poem of the Day
- Poetry Of This Night, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Poetry Is Scrapbooking, Dexsta Ray
- Avoid The Android, Erhard Hans Josef Lang
- So To Differentiate (False Humility), Dexsta Ray
- Sincere Effort, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- LA PREMIÈRE FOIS, Rosie Bourget
- Drunk, Abby Sze
- So is Love, Jayatissa Liyanage
- A World Without Colour, Alex Lear
- À TOI, Rosie Bourget