HE wakened quivering on a golden rack Inlaid with gems: no sign of change, no fear Or hope of death came near; Only the empty ether hovered black About him stretched upon his living bier, Of old by Merlin's Master deftly wrought: Two Seraphim of Gabriel's helpful race In that far nook of space With iron levers wrenched and held him taut. The Seraph at his head was Agony; Delight, more terrible, stood at his feet: Their sixfold pinions beat The darkness, or were spread immovably Poising the rack, whose jewelled fabric meet To strain a god, did fitfully unmask With olive light of chrysoprases dim The smiling Seraphim Implacably intent upon their task. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CITY VIGNETTE: RAIN AT NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE MEETING AND PASSING by ROBERT FROST DON JUAN: DEDICATION [OR, INVOCATION] by GEORGE GORDON BYRON MOTLEY by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE WITCHCRAFT BY A PICTURE by JOHN DONNE AT THE TAVERN by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR |