These humble folk, which first his groping hand Portrayed, down-trodden, sad, have power to stir My soul as his, to make me understand The passion which gripped their young interpreter. These other canvasses almost outblaze Nature's own sunshine; vivid blues of sky And water, grasses green as springtime daze My eyes with color and electrify My senses. There a twisted cypress tree Against a seething sky on a storm-torn field Reflects the bitter inner agony Of stark defeat and loneliness unrepealed. How could he -- thwarted, loveless, early hurled Graveward -- bequeath such beauty to the world? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GARDEN WIRELESS by CARL SANDBURG PROLONGED SONNET: WHEN THE TROOPS WERE RETURNING FROM MILAN by NICCOLO DEGLI ALBIZZI ROSE AYLMER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 45 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TWICE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SEPTEMBER, 1939 by VERA MARY BRITTAIN THE MEDIATOR, HYMN 2 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 3. IN ENGLAND: THE DEATH OF KING HACON by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |