Always the heavy air, The dreadful cage, the low Murmur of voices, where Some Force goes to and fro In an immense despair. As through a haunted brain, With tireless footfalls The Obsession moves again, Trying the floor, the walls, Forever, but in vain. In vain, proud Force. A might, Shrewder than yours, did spin Around your rage that bright Prison of steel, wherein You pace for my delight. And oh, my heart, what Doom, What mightier Mind has wrought The cage, within whose room Paces your burning thought For the delight of Whom? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOUSE by ELIZABETH JANE COATSWORTH THIRTY BOB A WEEK by JOHN DAVIDSON A CORN SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR PRELUDES: 1-4 (COMPLETE) by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT THE DEAMON LOVER by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE MOUNT OF OLIVES, SELECTION by ANEIRIN |