The tree the tempest with a crash of wood Throws down in front of us is not to bar Our passage to our journey's end for good, But just to ask us who we think we are Insisting always on our own way so. She likes to halt us in our runner tracks, And make us get down in a foot of snow Debating what to do without an ax. And yet she knows obstruction is in vain: We will not be put off the final goal We have it hidden in us to attain, Not though we have to seize by either pole This aimless earth now circling in one place, And steer it a direction straight through space. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE ON THE SPRING by THOMAS GRAY TO THE SMALL CELANDINE (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH LINES WRITTEN IN LADY'S ALBUM OF DIFFERENT-COLOURED PAPER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD DEAR MINNA by MAXWELL BODENHEIM THE TOWERS OF PRINCETON [FROM THE TRAIN] by ROBERT BRIDGES (1858-1941) |