Mute oracle of meek humanity, Save to its sense of blindness wholly blind, That drifting wide in misery, to find Some beacon o'er the night-encumbered sea, Steered in pathetic ignorance to thee; What sighs, what tears -- of agony confined Within the sunless prison of the mind, Walled up of doubt and locked in mystery, Couldst thou, if thought were voluble, reveal Of panting love and hopes all winged to rise But netted of bewilderment, and worn To thin despair, deep-shuddering to feel No warmth below, above, no sympathies, No rest but in oblivion forlorn! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN DE CO'N PONE'S HOT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE AIM WAS SONG by ROBERT FROST ON AN OLD MUFF by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON DEATH'S VALLEY by WALT WHITMAN ENGLISH COUNTRY (WHERE THREE SHIRES MEET) by WILLIAM BLISS FOR ONE WHO IS SERENE by MARGARET E. BRUNER AT SUNSET by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN |