GOD hath His failures, nowise few. Behind His mighty dreams the oft-foiled Dreamer lurks, The aroma of perfection round His mind Reaching not half His works; And thus doth the Idealist of the Spheres, The Great Arch-Visionary, at moments wear Delight that seems first cousin to despair On His lone countenance void of mirth and tears! For He is everywhere The Eternal Master planning without cease The Eternal Masterpiece -- Alas, impossibly fair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 26 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE HIPPOPOTAMUS by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT WEARINESS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW AN EPISTLE TO CURIO by MARK AKENSIDE ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 18. TO THE HON. FRANCIS EARL OF HUNTINGDON by MARK AKENSIDE |