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This is a poem about the University city of Cambridge in the UK , although I have only been there a few times , I decided to write a poem about it. Lord Bryon one of the great romantic poets kept a Bear in his rooms at Trinity College . The Fonts of Janus Evolving, the pulsating arteries, of musicked air, A fusion of cultures fills the ancient erudite streets, And caviared the eloquence of words , worth resounding Off medieval walls, ashlar faced, mansard slates, Stretched turrets and chimney stacks, an altar of academia, Of alleys and passageways, pastures green, where cattle graze And parks of Jesus named, unchanged, and centuries on Still the clever tread, as saplings fresh from natures womb, Nurtured, enlightened to deliciate, in the sublimity of life, Their second home. A panoply of two wheels hurtling towards a yet Unfulfilled destiny, of books and lectures, codes Of conduct and coats of arms, youths envious innocence Veiled in charm, as spring marries then disrobes The blushed Autumn brides, such flights of fancy to Did Byron bear, fresh faces replacing old, tradition embraced, At every flagstone, the trampled cloisters and great halls Adorned, of might and Mitre, and patrons past, Each beating vassal devout, Keepers of our spring, The resolute burgesses of our town. Gazing from the backs, the sinuous ever changing Cam, Kissed leaves from a thousand pendulous willow trees Take their bow, their proud evanescent reflection in ripples dipped, The Romantics quondam quills in the black stillness Of quiescent ink, cloaked secrets garnered of moonlit walks, Kisses on loan, May bumps in June, cavorting the waking sun, Life’s dreams and wishes, the bridge of sighs in silence pleased, Watching from the banks no punt or quant pole but men of steel. Cornices, stoney gargoyle grey, sculptors, past guardians Of their domain, embracing shadowing light and dark, Whilst the gothic chapels of choristers gowned, Lauded and somnolent the waited crowd, ethereal a city That bathes in beauty, raising dreams and to them bound. Departed infused, replenished imbued, The inkwell of knowledge flows, flourishes through our veins, From the Cam, its seven hills to the seven seas, As antiquity breathes and lives our name, The fonts of Janus Looking forward at looking back, our home iconic stands, The Best of England.
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