 | Sonnets of the Wingless Hours |  |
62
NERO'S SAND.
Once, under Nero, there was lack of bread
In mighty Rome; and eyes were strained to meet
The ships from Egypt, laden with the wheat
With which the Mistress of the World was fed.
In mighty Rome; and eyes were strained to meet
The ships from Egypt, laden with the wheat
With which the Mistress of the World was fed.
But when at last, with every swelled sail spread,
They hove in sight, there ran from street to street
A sudden rumour that the longed-for fleet
Brought sand for Nero's circuses instead.
They hove in sight, there ran from street to street
A sudden rumour that the longed-for fleet
Brought sand for Nero's circuses instead.
So Fate misfreights the vessel of our lives
Which might have carried grain of very gold
And fills it to the water-mark with sand;
Which might have carried grain of very gold
And fills it to the water-mark with sand;
And Folly's breezes helping, it arrives
Safely in port, where Death unloads the hold,
And all the cheated angels round it stand.
Safely in port, where Death unloads the hold,
And all the cheated angels round it stand.
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