I broider the world upon a loom, I broider with dreams my tapestry; Here in a little lonely room I am master of earth and sea, And the planets come to me. I broider my life into the frame, I broider my love, thread upon thread; The world goes by with its glory and shame, Crowns are bartered and blood is shed: I sit and broider my dreams instead. And the only world is the world of my dreams, And my weaving the only happiness; For what is the world but what it seems? And who knows but that God, beyond our guess, Sits weaving worlds out of loneliness? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A BLUEBELL by EMILY JANE BRONTE LOVE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE OH! BLAME NOT THE BARD by THOMAS MOORE ONE'S-SELF I SING by WALT WHITMAN CALMNESS OF THE SUBLIME by PHILIP JAMES BAILEY THE HEATHER ON FIRE by MATHILDE BLIND TAKE YOUR CHOICE: AS EDGAR LEE MASTERS WOULD HANDLE IT. HILDA HYDE by BERTON BRALEY |