Green bowl where heaven drinks and cools the cheek Of watchfulness. White, wading blossoms trim The grassy wave, up-rambling to the brim In swaying liesure. Oak and chestnut streak The crest-line with their young, that tip-toe meek And listen upward, reaching limb to limb Like children in a ring. What pagan hymn Is ended, and what god about to speak? No god. This is a human shrine, too warm For chill of deity. The rooflesss air Is like a crystal where I see a form Nameless as man; or named, what do I care If in his world-old eyes all hate hath end? Buddha, or Jesus, Ghandi, or my friend. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE INSCRIPTION FOR THE ENTRANCE TO A WOOD by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT AN ANATOMY OF THE WORLD: THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY by JOHN DONNE TO THE MEMORY OF THE BRAVE AMERICANS UNDER GENERAL GREENE by PHILIP FRENEAU WHAT THE BULLET SANG by FRANCIS BRET HARTE EXTRACTS FROM AN OPERA: 2. DAISY'S SONG by JOHN KEATS |