Poet, thou shalt have to drink Water in a wooden bowl. There shall be a friend for thee: The lonely one within thy soul. But the grass about thy door Men called grass in Babylon, And from a simple shore like this Astounding ships have gone. Drunk with water thou hast sung Of the gods in epic song; Loud bronze battles of the world, Helen's old, immortal wrong. Thou hast sung how once a child Roused in a child love mystical; And how a blind old man has seen The flaming angel fall. Whoso would sing of little loves Within a little lyric line May dance and drowse to his content, He may drink the purple wine. But thou who hast plucked a leaf of grass And found therein thy happy soul, Thou shalt only have to drink Water in a wooden bowl. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WINDING BANKS OF ERNE; OR, THE EMIGRANT'S ADIEU TO HIS BIRTHPLACE by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS [JANUARY 8, 1815] by THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH ON RECEIPT OF A RARE PIPE by W. H. B. TO THE DEAD by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD MAXIMS FOR THE OLD HOUSE: THE THRESHOLD by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: TO MIGNONNE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |