Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.
Eugene Lee-Hamilton b. 1845To My Tortoise Chronos
T
As listless to the sun as to the showers,
Thou very image of the wingless Hours
Now creeping past me with their feet of lead:
For thee and me the same small garden bed
Is the whole world: the same half life is ours;
And year by year, as Fate restricts my powers,
I grow more like thee, and the soul grows dead.
No, Tortoise: from thy like in days of old
Was made the living lyre; and mighty strings
Spanned thy green shell with pure vibrating gold.
The notes soared up, on strong but trembling wings,
Through ether’s lower zones; then, growing bold,
Spurned earth for ever and its wingless things.