EACH creature holds an insular point in space; Yet what man stirs a finger, breathes a sound, But all the multitudinous beings round In all the countless worlds with time and place For their conditions, down to the central base, Thrill, haply, in vibration and rebound, Life answering life across the vast profound, In full antiphony, by a common grace? I think this sudden joyance which illumes A child's mouth sleeping, unaware may run From some soul newly loosened from earth's tombs: I think this passionate sigh, which half-begun I stifle back, may reach and stir the plumes Of God's calm angel standing in the sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO SAMUEL COLERIDGE UPON HEARING HIS 'SOME I FEEL LIKE A MOTHERLESS..' by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE LAKE BOATS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE HEMLOCK by EMILY DICKINSON MEMORY OF THE IRISH DEAD by JOHN KELLS INGRAM EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: THE BEGINNER by RUDYARD KIPLING SONNET: 2 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE EDWIN MORRIS; OR, THE LAKE by ALFRED TENNYSON SONNET WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914: 2 by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY |