This spirit-choking atmosphere With deadly serpent-coil Entwines my soaring-upwardness And chains me to the soil, Where'er I seek with eager stride To gain yon gleaming height, These noisesome fetters coil aloft And snare my buoyant flight. O, why these aspirations bold, These rigours of desire, That surge within so ceaselessly Like living tongues of fire? And why these glowing forms of hope That scintillate and shine, If naught of all that burnished dream Can evermore be mine? It cannot be, fate does not mock, And man's untoward decree Shall not forever thus confine My life's entirety, My every fibre fierce rebels Against this servile role, And all my being broods to break This death-grip from my soul! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LONG JOHN BROWN AND LITTLE MARY BELL by WILLIAM BLAKE TO MR. GAY, WHO WROTE HIM A CONGRATULATORY LETTER ON FINISHING HOUSE by ALEXANDER POPE AUTUMN (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON THE BEAUTIFUL LAND OF NOD by ELLA WHEELER WILCOX ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 14. THE COMPLAINT by MARK AKENSIDE |