As long as we're bound by the Six Extremes discussing the Nine Knots is futile talented men remain in the wilds the unskilled close rough doors the cliffs are still dark at noon the valleys stay dim on cloudless days here you'll find the sons of elders and none of them owns any pants | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIXTEEN DEAD MEN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE OLD SEXTON by PARK BENJAMIN FLOWERS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW REFUGE by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. THE LAMENT: A BALLAD by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 31. TO ONE WHO LOVED HIM by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |