This was the heavenly hiding place Wherein the spirit laughed a day, All its proud ivories and fires Shrunk to a shovelful of clay. It must have love, this silent earth, To leap up at the King’s desire, Moving in such a noble dance Of wreathed ivory and fire. It will not stir for me at all, Nor answer me with voice nor gleam Adieu, sweet-memoried dust, I go After the Master for the dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TROY PARK: 5. THE CAT by EDITH SITWELL BY THE FIRESIDE by ROBERT BROWNING CLORINDA AND DAMON by ANDREW MARVELL THE BURNING OF THE TEMPLE by ISAAC ROSENBERG ARE THE CHILDREN AT HOME? by MARGARET ELIZABETH MUNSON SANGSTER |