How cold are thy baths, Apollo!
Cried the African monarch, the splendid,
As down to his death in the hollow
Dark dungeons of Rome he descended,
Uncrowned, unthroned, unattended;
How cold are thy baths, Apollo!

How cold are thy baths, Apollo!
Cried the Poet, unknown, unbefriended,
As the vision, that lured him to follow,
With the mist and the darkness blended,
And the dream of his life was ended;
How cold are thy baths, Apollo!

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2 Comments

  1. Tezlyn Urbina says:

    the poem is very very sad but the way he used the words make it seem so beautiful:)

  2. ryan williams says:

    this poem has a lot of history. it is kinda sad.

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