ALL day, on bole and limb the axes ring, And every stroke upon my startled brain Falls with the power of sympathetic pain; I shrink to view each glorious forest-king Descend to earth, a wan, discrowned thing. Ah, Heaven! beside these foliaged giants slain, How small the human dwarfs, whose lust for gain Hath edged their brutal steel to smite and sting! Hark! to those long-drawn murmurings, strange and drear! The wail of Dryads in their last distress; O'er ruined haunts and ravished loveliness Still tower those brawny arms; tones coarsely loud Rise still beyond the greenery's waning cloud, While falls the insatiate steel, sharp, cold and sheer! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HONEY DRIPPING FROM THE COMB by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY RETURNING, WE HEAR THE LARKS by ISAAC ROSENBERG TO THE SAME PURPOSE by THOMAS TRAHERNE IMPRESSION DU MATIN by OSCAR WILDE THE BROOK: AUTUMN by LAURA ABELL SONNET: EUTERPE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH QUATORZAINS: 6. A FANTASTIC SIMILE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES A CREW POEM by EDWARD AUGUSTUS BLOUNT JR. TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. LOVE'S VISION by EDWARD CARPENTER |