Nor art thou lesse esteem'd, that I have plac'd (Amongst mine honour'd) Thee (almost) the last: In great Processions many lead the way To him, who is the triumph of the day, As these have done to Thee, who art the one, One onely glory of a million, In whom the spirit of the Gods do's dwell, Firing thy soule, by which thou dost foretell When this or that vast Dinastie must fall Downe to a Fillit more Imperiall. When this or that Horne shall be broke, and when Others shall spring up in their place agen: When times and seasons and all yeares must lie Drown'd in the Sea of wild Eternitie: When the Black Dooms-day Bookes (as yet unseal'd) Shall by the mighty Angell be reveal'd: And when the Trumpet which thou late hast found Shall call to Judgment; tell us when the sound Of this or that great Aprill day shall be, And next the Gospell wee will credit thee. Meane time like Earth-wormes we will craule below, And wonder at Those Things that thou dost know. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOOD-BY AND KEEP COLD by ROBERT FROST A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE SOUL AND BODY by ANDREW MARVELL DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY [OR, DAFFYDOWNDILLY] by MOTHER GOOSE THE HIGHER GOOD by THEODORE PARKER ITYLUS by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 1. THE MARVELLOUS SEED OF LOVE by PHILIP AYRES SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 17. THE CHILD by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |