WE shape our deeds and then are shapen by them. To some frail heart a cruel gift we bring, Turn from our acts away, and think to fly them: Ah, theirs the stronger wing! They come upon our peace with sound of weeping, They find us though we hide in clefts and caves. They are with us waking, they are with us sleeping, And rend us in our graves. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HARRISON STREET COURT by CARL SANDBURG TETHYS' FESTIVAL: SHADOWS by SAMUEL DANIEL CUPID MISTAKEN by MATTHEW PRIOR LITTLE GIFFEN by FRANCIS ORRERY TICKNOR THE CRADLE OF THE DEEP by EMMA HART WILLARD |