Flush with the pond the lurid furnace burned At eve, while smoke and vapour filled the yard; The gloomy winter sky was dimly starred, The fly-wheel with a mellow murmur turned; While, ever rising on its mystic stair In the dim light, from secret chambers borne, The straw of harvest, severed from the corn, Climbed, and fell over, in the murky air. I thought of mind and matter, will and law, And then of him, who set his stately seal Of Roman words on all the forms he saw Of old-world husbandry: I could but feel With what a rich precision he would draw The endless ladder, and the booming wheel! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HER EYES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON MIMNERMUS IN CHURCH by WILLIAM JOHNSON CORY CINQUAIN: NIGHT WINDS by ADELAIDE CRAPSEY A NET TO SNARE THE MOONLIGHT by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY TO MY ANTENOR, MARCH 16, 1661/2 by KATHERINE PHILIPS THE MALLARDS PASS UNHARMED by LAURA FRANCES ALEXANDER |