ONCE, in my moment of earth, Before the immortal re-birth, I thought of my flesh as a thing Like to the house of a king,— Beautiful, worthy to stand Proud on the heavenly strand. I remember it now as a clod Prone in the gardens of God,— Mean, without honor or beauty, Justified but by the duty Of spending its pittance of power In rearing a heavenly flower. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE REPUBLIC by JAMES GALVIN EVANGELINE; A TALE OF ACADIE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 84 by PHILIP SIDNEY SONG OF SLAVES IN THE DESERT by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE DAUGHTER OF THE BLIND by ANNE M. F. ANNAN VERSES TO THE MEMORY OF MARY FLETCHER by BERNARD BARTON |