Atlas upon his shoulders bare the sky, The load was heavy, but the load was fair; His sense was ravished with the melody, Made from the motion of the highest sphere. Not Atlas, I, nor did I heaven bear; Caelica, 'tis true, once on my shoulder sat, Her eyes more rich by many characts were Than stars or planets, which men wonder at; Atlas bare heaven, such burdens be of grace; Caelica, in heaven, is the angel's place. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: A DEAD STATESMAN by RUDYARD KIPLING ROMERO by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT TO ANNE (1) by GEORGE GORDON BYRON EARLY CANDLE-LIGHT by RHYS CARPENTER PLEA FOR CHARITY by ALICE CARY AT THE END OF THE ROAD by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN |