Half-man, half-child, his whole limp body nods: -- More listless he than "Adam" long ago Born of the brush of Michelangelo, For Adam's finger was held out to God's While this boy's langour is impalpable. The world, that won Christ's Life and Death, to him Is like an empty kettle, soot-stained, dim. Skies Galileo watched, for him prove dull. He yawns while men weave threads of dream, soul-spun, Into firm fabrics of reality; -- His mind too sluggish now to feel or see That thence a trek of half-gods has begun. Yet when these go, he'll leap up to receive The gods themselves as Adam leapt to Eve! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN TO MONT BLANC [IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNI] by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE PRIMROSE by ROBERT HERRICK KILLED AT THE FORD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A CAMEO by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE DECEMBER by ELIZABETH V. AUVACHE WOOD MAGIC by FRANCES HALLEY BROCKETT |