A MID a waste and solitary field, Upon the twilight boundary of the day, Upspake the timeless flintstone huge and gray: "Why should my counsel be forever sealed? To thee an ancient truth shall be revealed -- To thee, a wavering mortal, brief of stay: -- Something of kin, -- thou piece of passioned clay, Art thou and I, whom passion ne'er did wield; For, lo! did not Deucalion at the flood Behind him fling us stones -- and men we grew? With limbs we moved abroad, with lips we spake! And hast not thou, with grief, seen flesh-and-blood Become to thee as stones, that Pity's dew Could never melt, nor yet thine anger break?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WORK by ALEKSANDR SERGEYEVICH PUSHKIN THE OLD SWIMMIN'-HOLE by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE ROSE AND THE GAUNTLET by JOHN STERLING (1806-1844) THE THREE BEST THING: 1. WORK by HENRY VAN DYKE TO A GENTLEMAN & LADY ON THE DEATH ... CHILD NAMED AVIS by PHILLIS WHEATLEY THE PALM-TREE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |