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Sonnets of the Wingless Hours

By Eugene Lee-Hamilton
  
  

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ROMAN BATHS.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


94

ROMAN BATHS.

There were some Roman baths where we spent hours:
Immense and lonely courts of rock-like brick,
All overgrown with verdure strong and thick,
And girding sweet wild lawns all full of flowers.
One day, beneath the turf, green with the showers
Of all the centuries since Genseric,
They found rich pavements hidden by Time's trick,
Adorned with tritons, dolphins, doves like ours.
So, underneath the surface of To-day,
Lies yesterday, and what we call the Past,
The only thing which never can decay.
Things bygone are the only things that last:
The Present is mere grass, quick-mown away;
The Past is stone, and stands for ever fast.