Our Crosses are no other then the rods, And our Diseases, Vultures of the Gods: Each griefe we feele, that likewise is a Kite Sent forth by them, our flesh to eate, or bite. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: CHARLES WARREN, THE SHERIFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS COOPER SQUARE by KAREN SWENSON ODE WRITTEN IN [THE BEGINNING OF THE YEAR] 1746 by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) FIFTY YEARS (1863-1913) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |