Though rains of jeering pelt with hissing sneers; Though winds of creeds their raucous bluster shout; Though storms of sects and parties drench the land; Though gales of a derision howl about; He stands in windy storming—stands alone, Whom sullen raining cannot pierce or soak; For rooted in his faith, he calmly dons This darkened tempest like a warming cloak. His brow is ploughed by bitterness of men, But scourges turn to tongues of glory yet! His back is bent with folly of the world, Who takes his lashing for an epaulet! Not all the anguish nor the bitter tears Can challenge Time as when his thought is heard; Not all the thundering of all the guns Reverberates through ages as his word. Banners of vision burn about his word: Destinies crowd and bow before his plan; And Dawn, that kindles in his eyes, illumes The rising temple in the heart of man! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ILLINOIS FARMER by CARL SANDBURG SUMMER IN ENGLAND, 1914 by ALICE MEYNELL INTROSPECTIVE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE YOUNG GRAY HEAD by CAROLINE ANNE BOWLES SOUTHEY THE IVORY GATE; AN UNFINISHED DRAFT by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES PSALM 50 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |