Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


WALLS by EVA GORE-BOOTH

First Line: FREE TO ALL SOULS THE HIDDEN BEAUTY CALLS
Last Line: BUT ALL THINGS GIVE THEMSELVES, YET NONE MAY TAKE.

Free to all souls the hidden beauty calls,
The sea thrift dwelling on her spray-swept height,
The lofty rose, the low-grown aconite,
The gliding river and the stream that brawls
Down the sharp cliffs with constant breaks and falls --
All these are equal in the equal light --
All waters mirror the one Infinite.

God made a garden, it was men built walls;
But the wide sea from men is wholly freed;
Freely the great waves rise and storm and break,
Nor softlier go for any landlord's need,
Where rhythmic tides flow for no miser's sake
And none hath profit of the brown sea-weed,
But all things give themselves, yet none may take.



Home: PoetryExplorer.net