AH! what to him @3our@1 trivial praise or blame, Who through long years hath raised half-mournful eyes Yearning to mark some heaven-descended flame Light his soul's altar rife with sacrifice? The offering of far thoughts, profound as prayer, And starry dreams, still rhythmical of youth, With travail of brain that pants for loftier air, To the veiled mystery of immaculate Truth: No Orient seer -- wild woodlands, 'round him furled, -- Building his shrine 'mid virginal vales apart, E'er watched and waited in the antique world, For fire divine, with more ethereal heart! @3Can@1 life's supreme oblations still remain All undiscerned? or hath some marvellous levin Hallowed his gift, and down his rifted pain Flashed the white splendor of God's grace from heaven? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOHN KEATS (1) by GEORGE GORDON BYRON MAN MUST DO MORE FOR MAN by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE EVENING SOLACE by CHARLOTTE BRONTE THE TWO CHILDREN by EMILY JANE BRONTE PILGRIM MOTHERS by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |