Between my index finger and my thumb I hold the earth. I spin it as I will. Ocean and isle are mine. The waves are still When I command. And potentates are dumb. Where is the man who can compute the sum Of days that Time enfolds for good or ill? -- Though Time itself must bide the hour until I shall reveal the end of time is come. A cloud of servants wait but to obey; My prophets have I sent to write my law; And footprints tell the wise where I have trod. Yet though the heavens tell my glory aye, And angels hold my majesty in awe ... The fool says in his heart, @3There is no God@1. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONGS OF EXPERIENCE: INTRODUCTION by WILLIAM BLAKE VASHTI by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER RELIGION AND DOCTRINE by JOHN MILTON HAY THE ARROW AND THE SONG by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW COLIN CLOUTS COME HOME AGAIN by EDMUND SPENSER IDYLLS OF THE KING: THE HOLY GRAIL by ALFRED TENNYSON THE CITY: 1. VILLAGE FANTASY - THE QUEST by STIRLING BOWEN |