Flow, flow the waves hated, Accursed, adored, The waves of mutation: No anchorage is. Sleep is not, death is not; Who seem to die live. House you were born in, Friends of your spring-time, Old man and young maid, Day's toil and its guerdon, They are all vanishing, Fleeing to fables, Cannot be moored. See the stars through them, Through treacherous marbles. Know, the stars yonder, The stars everlasting, Are fugitive also, And emulate, vaulted, The lambent heat-lightning, And fire-fly's flight. When thou dost return, On the wave's circulation, Beholding the shimmer, The wild dissipation, And, out of endeavor To change and to flow, The gas become solid, And phantoms and nothings Return to the things, And endless imbroglio Is law and the world, -- Then first shalt thou know, That in the wild turmoil, Horsed on the Proteus, Thou ridest to power, And to endurance. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET (6) by GEORGE SANTAYANA WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL HESTER PRYNNE? by KAREN SWENSON COBWEBS by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNET: 86 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AN ATHENIAN GARDEN by TRUMBULL STICKNEY HYMN TO SCIENCE by MARK AKENSIDE MYSELF by HARRIET ELLEN (GRANNIS) AREY |