You saw the vision in the face of clay, And fixed it through the magic of a hand Obedient unto the will's command, In forms impervious to Time's decay: Historian of bloods that interplay Confusedly within a cryptic land, You've chiseled, and your work of art shall stand To gem the archives of a better day. Alone, far from the touch of kindred mind, You've mounted with a grim, determined zeal, Despite environment austere, unkind, Or frozen-fingers clenched to your appeal, You've held the ardor of your first ideal, Robed in a queenly majesty, resigned. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN THE BROOK by ROBERT FROST TRIFLE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MADMAN OF THE SOUTH SIDE by CLARENCE MAJOR THE SLAVE TRADE: VIEW FROM THE MIDDLE PASSAGE by CLARENCE MAJOR RICHARD BOOTH TO HIS SON JUNIUS BRUTUS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |