Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

HERTHA, by             Poem Explanation         Poet's Biography
First Line: I am the spirit of all that lives
Last Line: The broken sob of the magdalen


I am the spirit of all that lives,
I am the spirit of all that lives,
Labours and loses and forgives.
Labours and loses and forgives.
My breath's the wind among the reeds;
My breath's the wind among the reeds;
I'm wounded when a birch-tree bleeds.
I'm wounded when a birch-tree bleeds.
I am the clay nest 'neath the eaves
I am the clay nest 'neath the eaves
And the young life wherewith it brims.
And the young life wherewith it brims.
The silver minnow where it swims
The silver minnow where it swims
Under a roof of lily-leaves
Under a roof of lily-leaves
Beats with my pulses. From my eyes
Beats with my pulses. From my eyes
The violet gathered amethyst.
The violet gathered amethyst.
I am the rose of winter skies,
I am the rose of winter skies,
The moonlight conquering the mist.
The moonlight conquering the mist.

I am the bird the falcon strikes;

My strength is in the kestrel's wing,
My cruelty is in the shrikes.
I am the bird the falcon strikes;
My pity bids the dock-leaves grow
My strength is in the kestrel's wing,
My cruelty is in the shrikes.
Large, that a little child may know
My pity bids the dock-leaves grow
Where he shall heal the nettle's sting.
I am the snowdrop and the snow,
Large, that a little child may know
Where he shall heal the nettle's sting.
Dead amber, and the living fir-
The corn-sheaf and the harvester.
I am the snowdrop and the snow,
My craft is breathed into the fox
Dead amber, and the living fir-
When, a red cub, he snarls and plays
The corn-sheaf and the harvester.
With his red vixen. Yea, I am

The wolf, the hunter, and the lamb;

My craft is breathed into the fox
I am the slayer and the slain,
When, a red cub, he snarls and plays
The thought new-shapen in the brain.
I am the ageless strength of rocks,
With his red vixen. Yea, I am
The wolf, the hunter, and the lamb;
The weakness that is all a grace
Being the weakness of a flower.
I am the slayer and the slain,
The secret on the dead man's face
The thought new-shapen in the brain.
Written in his last living hour,
I am the ageless strength of rocks,
The endless trouble of the seas
The weakness that is all a grace
That fret and struggle with the shore,
Being the weakness of a flower.
Strive and are striven with evermore-
The secret on the dead man's face
Written in his last living hour,
The changeless beauty that they wear
The endless trouble of the seas
Through all their changes; all of these
Are mine. The brazen streets of hell
That fret and struggle with the shore,
I know, and heaven's gold ways as well.
Strive and are striven with evermore-
Mortality, eternity,
The changeless beauty that they wear
Change, death, and life are mine-are me.
Through all their changes; all of these

Are mine. The brazen streets of hell

I know, and heaven's gold ways as well.
Mortality, eternity,
Change, death, and life are mine-are me.






Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net