In days of old, before man's advent here, Some wondrous Titan cut this water-way; And never since have summer skies been clear, For weeping clouds make one, long, April day; And day or night here deathless noise has rung Summer or winter, countless ages through, As if by nymphs a ceaseless dirge were sung, Or water-wraiths their loudest trumpets blew. But if these rapids find a calmer sea, And if these currents purer, sweeter grow,— Emerging from this maelstrom; then to me Pain may be blest and my life-stream may flow Purer by far; so I shall bless the Hand That through this tract of years my course has planned. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER THE WINTER by CLAUDE MCKAY GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD MORNING by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES A SONG OF LABOUR; DEDICATED TO MY FELLOW-WORKERS WITH PICK AND SHOVEL by ALEXANDER ANDERSON EPIGRAM by DECIMUS MAGNUS AUSONIUS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 13. CUPID IS A WARRIOR by PHILIP AYRES |