SEE, where his difficult way that Old Man wins Bent by a load of Mulberry leaves! -- most hard Appears 'his' lot, to the small Worm's compared, For whom his toil with early day begins. Acknowledging no task-master, at will (As if her labour and her ease were twins) 'She' seems to work, at pleasure to lie still; -- And softly sleeps within the thread she spins. So fare they -- the Man serving as her Slave. Ere long their fates do each to each conform: Both pass into new being, -- but the Worm, Transfigured, sinks into a hopeless grave; 'His' volant Spirit will, he trusts, ascend To bliss unbounded, glory without end. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JABBERWOCKY by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON ACCORDING TO THE MIGHTY WORKING by THOMAS HARDY SONGS FOR THE PEOPLE by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER BURNHAM-BEECHES by HENRY LUTTRELL LITTLE JESUS by FRANCIS THOMPSON AUSTERITY OF POETRY by MATTHEW ARNOLD |