ALL that springeth from the sod Tendeth upwards unto God; All that cometh from the skies Urging it anon to rise. Winter's life-delaying breath Leaveneth the lump of death, Till the frailest fettered bloom Moves the earth, and bursts the tomb. Welcome, then, Time's threshing-pain And the furrows where each grain, Like a Samson, blossom-shorn, Waits the resurrection morn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 2. HEAT by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER TWO WITCHES: 1. THE WITCH OF COOS by ROBERT FROST THE PICTURE OF LITTLE T.C. IN A PROSPECT OF FLOWERS by ANDREW MARVELL THE DREAM THAT CRACKED A WHIP by FRANCES AIRTH EDGE by CHARLOTTE FARRINGTON BABCOCK LINES TO BE SPOKEN BY THOMAS DENMAN.....WHEN FOUR YEARS OLD by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |