Like stranded ice when freshets die These shattered marbles tumbled lie: They trouble me. What solace? -- Old in inexhaustion, Interred alive from storms of fortune, The quarries be! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COMRADE JESUS by SARAH NORCLIFFE CLEGHORN A LITTLE DUTCH GARDEN by HARRIET WHITNEY DURBIN THESEUS by THOMAS STURGE MOORE COMPENSATION by MARION L. BERTRAND THE TOAD by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |