spacialesque trumpets corrode the haute peaks of the world with spiral blasts to remember Reason who gambled with Freedom for a pennyworth of salt, forsaking the sea, tumbling about the clouds to rivet without fail, to fail clutching his bosom with remembrance nimble feet we had, dancing to the crisp tune of crustaceans and so we came to grips with the godhead deifying the joints, whirling on a spoke of the sick wheel | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FREDERICKSBURG by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 35 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE SHEPHERDESS by ALICE MEYNELL TO THE DAISY (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH EPITAPH FOR A CONDEMNED BOOK by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE WARDROBE OF REMEMBRANCE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |