THE swart smoke geni with his heart aglow, And all his giant strength and vigour strung, To help our toiling lower gods below— He still remains unsung. I have but caught, in leaping to the side To let him pass in smoke and thunder, dim, Faint half-heard echoes from that rushing tide, Of song which follows him. But the keen years that for our coming kind, Keep greater triumphs than to-day we claim, Will bring a poet in whose heart the wind Of song will leap like flame. He, born into a richer newer time, And with a wealthier past behind, will sing, Our wild fire-monster blurr'd with smoke and grime, Traffic's sole lord and king: In music worthy of that soul of fire, Which in him glows and leaps Like lightnings, ere they cleave in sullen ire Some jagged cloud that sweeps The hills in muttered fear. My own dim song Will fade and sink, as sinks a fitful wind, Before the grander music, wild and strong Of him who comes behind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FRIENDLY WOOD by PAUL VALERY BREAKFAST by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON PRISONED IN WINDSOR, HE RECOUNTETH HIS PLEASURE THERE PASSED by HENRY HOWARD VENUS AND ADONIS by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE RECONCILEMENT by JOHN SHEFFIELD A REMEMBERED FACE by EDMUND JOHN ARMSTRONG |