Classic Poem

SUGGESTED BY A VERY CURIOUS OLD ROOM AT THE " TANKARD, " IPSWICH

Such were the rooms in which of yore
Our ancestors were wont to dwell;
And still of fashions known no more
Even these lingering relics tell.

The oaken wainscot richly graced
With gay festoons of mimic flowers,
Armorial bearings half effaced,
All speak of proud and long past hours.

The ceiling, quaintly carved and groin'd,
With pendent pediments reversed,
A by-gone age recalls to mind,
Whose glories song hath oft rehearsed.

And true, though trite, the moral taught
Well worthy of the poet's rhyme,
By all that can impress on thought
The changes made by chance and time.

These tell " a plain, unvarnish'd tale "
Of wealth's decline and pride's decay,
Nor less unto the mind unveil
Those things which cannot pass away!

And truths which no attention wake
When poets sing, or parsons teach,
Perchance may some impression make,
When thus a public house may preach!