OF me and of my theme think what thou wilt: The song of gladness one straight bolt can check. But I have never stood at Fortune's beck: Were she and her light crew to run atilt At my poor holding little would be spilt; Small were the praise for singing o'er that wreck. Who courts her dooms to strife his bended neck; He grasps a blade, not always by the hilt. Nathless she strikes at random, can be fell With other than those votaries she deals The black or brilliant from her thunder-rift. I say but that this love of Earth reveals A soul beside our own to quicken, quell, Irradiate, and through ruinous floods uplift. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE AMERICAN FLAG by JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE KITTY NEIL by JOHN FRANCIS WALLER CUSTER'S LAST CHARGE [JUNE 25, 1876] by FREDERICK WHITTAKER TO ONE WHO ASKED by KENNETH SLADE ALLING WIND IN THE WILLOWS by VERNE TAYLOR BENEDICT THE CHASE OF THE METAPHOR by RICHARD BLACKMORE NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 28 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT LYNTON VERSES: 1 by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. I SAW A VISION by EDWARD CARPENTER |