A Word made Flesh is seldom And tremblingly partook Nor then perhaps reported But have I not mistook Each one of us has tasted With ecstasies of stealth The very food debated To our specific strength - A Word that breathes distinctly Has not the power to die Cohesive as the Spirit It may expire if He - "Made Flesh and dwelt among us" Could condescension be Like this consent of Language This loved Philology. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GARDEN DAYS: 6. AUTUMN FIRES by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON IDYLL 11. THE CYCLOPS by THEOCRITUS TO A LOCOMOTIVE IN WINTER by WALT WHITMAN THE PASSERS BY by AL-RADI BILLAH IMAGES: 1 by RICHARD ALDINGTON |