NATURE, through these generations You have nursed us with a patience Cruelly crossed by malversations, Marring mother-ministry To your multitudes, so blended By your processes, long-tended, And the painstaking expended On their chording tunefully. But this stuff of slowest moulding, In your fancy ever enfolding Life that rhythmic chime is holding: (Yes; so deem it you, Ladye -- This "concordia discors"!) -- truly, Rather, as if some imp unruly Twitched your artist-arm when newly Shaping forth your scenery! Aye. Yet seem you not to know it. Hence your world-work needs must show it Good in dream, in deed below it: (Lady, yes: so sight it we!) Thus, then, go on fondly thinking: Why should man your purblind blinking Crave to cure, when all is sinking To dissolubility. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SAD, SAD STORY by MOTHER GOOSE SCHOOL AND SCHOOLFELLOWS; FLOREAT ETONA by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED THE LAME SHEPHERD by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE LITTLE ONES GREATNESS by JOSEPH BEAUMONT CORYDON by LUCIUS MORRIS BEEBE THE GUEST OF PHINEUS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |