ONCE in an old quarry, In a heathery nook among the rocks, unclothed as I reclined in the sun, facing only the great hills and the sky, Millions of years floating softly down through the aerial blue, Thy words—millions millions of human forms— I saw descending. Tiny, into the tissue of grass and tree and herb passing—into the mouths and bodies of men and animals—and here and there a fitting home in the sex-cells finding, At length, clothed mortal men and women, Out on the actual world I saw them step: Thy words—thy wandering words—each one alone, so lost, so meaningless, Each seeking his true mates, if so to spell One sentence of thy great world-wisdom out | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT THE BRITISH MUSEUM by RICHARD ALDINGTON DELIGHT IN DISORDER by ROBERT HERRICK SONNET: 22. TO THE SAME [CYRIACK SKINNER] by JOHN MILTON CAVALRY CROSSING A FORD by WALT WHITMAN TO AN OLD SWEETHEART by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE MY UPPER SHELVES by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |