STANDING on tiptoe ever since my youth, Striving to grasp the future just above, I hold at length the only future -- Truth, And Truth is Love. I feel as one who being awhile confined Sees drop to dust about him all his bars: -- The clay grows less, and, leaving it, the mind Dwells with the stars. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VISIONS: 4. A ROSE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A BLACKBIRD by WALLACE STEVENS LAUS VENERIS by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE BROTHERS OF BIRCHINGTON; A LAY OF ST. THOMAS A BECKET by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |