He writes in characters too grand For our short sight to understand; We catch but broken strokes, and try To fathom all the mystery Of withered hopes, of death, of life, The endless war, the useless strife, -- But there, with larger, clearer sight, We shall see this -- His way was right. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CRUEL MISTRESS by THOMAS CAREW THE LOVELINESS OF LOVE by GEORGE DARLEY THIRTY BOB A WEEK by JOHN DAVIDSON PRAYER OF A SOLDIER IN FRANCE by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER MONODY ON THE ASTOR HOUSE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS BATUSCHKA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH FULFILLMENT by CLARIBEL WEEKS AVERY TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. THE LOVER FAR ON THE HILLS by EDWARD CARPENTER |