IF thou couldst empty all thyself of self, Like to a shell dishabited, Then might He find thee on the Ocean shelf, And say -- "This is not dead," -- And fill thee with Himself instead. But thou art all replete with very @3thou@1, And hast such shrewd activity, That, when He comes, He says: -- "This is enow Unto itself -- 'Twere better let it be: It is so small and full, there is no room for Me." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 49 by PHILIP SIDNEY THE DAY-DREAM: THE SLEEPING PALACE by ALFRED TENNYSON ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS: PART 1: 16. PERSUASION by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THESE ENDURE by MARION H. ADDINGTON A JAPANESE DWARF TREE by ISABEL ANDERSON CHORUS OF CLOUD-MAIDENS: STROPHE, FR. THE CLOUDS by ARISTOPHANES |