WHERE is one that, born of woman, altogether can escape From the lower world within him, moods of tiger, or of ape? Man as yet is being made, and ere the crowning Age of ages, Shall not aeon after aeon pass and touch him into shape? All about him shadow still, but, while the races flower and fade, Prophet-eyes may catch a glory slowly gaining on the shade, Till the peoples all are one, and all their voices blend in choric Hallelujah to the Maker 'It is finish'd. Man is made.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DESOLATE FIELD by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS TO THE MEMORY OF BEN JONSON by JOHN CLEVELAND THE BARD; A PINDARIC ODE by THOMAS GRAY TO JANE: KEEN STARS by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY AS THE TEAM'S HEAD BRASS by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS |