"It is said that a poet has died young in the breast of the most stolid." -- Robert Louis Stevenson. WHAT was the service of this poet? He Who blinked the blinding dazzle-rays that run Where life profiles its edges to the sun, And still suspected much he could not see. Clay-stopped, yet in his taciturnity There lay the vein of glory, known to none; And moods of secret smiling, only won When peace and passion, time and sense, agree. Fighting the world he loved for chance to brood, Ignorant when to embrace, when to avoid His loves that held him in their vital clutch -- This was his service, his beatitude; This was the inward trouble he enjoyed Who knew so little, and who felt so much. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN [NOVEMBER 24, 1863] by GEORGE HENRY BOKER SONNET: 86 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE IN THE OLD SOUTH CHURCH; 1677 by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER COMPOSED BY THE SIDE OF GRASMERE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |