The canyon is deep shade beneath And the tall pines rise out of it. In the sun beyond, brilliant as death, Is a mountain big with buried breath— Hark, I can hear the shout of it! The engine, on the curve ahead, Turns into sight and busily Sends up a spurt out of a bed Of coal that lay for centuries dead But now recovers dizzily. What shall I be, what shall I do In what divine experiment, When, ready to be used anew, I snap my nursing-bonds in two And fling away my cerement? Shall my good hopes continue still And, gathering infinity, Inhabit many a human will?— An Indian in me, toward that hill, Conceives himself divinity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GLOIRE DE DIJON by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE DRAKE'S DRUM by HENRY JOHN NEWBOLT AMORETTI: 65 by EDMUND SPENSER SALOME by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE IN UTRUMQUE PARATUS by MATTHEW ARNOLD PATRIOTISM AND FREEDOM by JOANNA BAILLIE POLYHYMNIA: VERSES TO LORD NORREYS, SELECTION by WILLIAM BASSE |