When he protested, not too solemnly, That for a world's achieving maintenance The crust of overdone divinity Lacked aliment, they called it recreance; And when he chose through his own glass to scan Sick Europe, and reduced, unyieldingly, The monk within the cassock to the man Within the monl, they called it heresy. And when he made so periously bold As to be scattered forth in black and white, Good fathers looked askance at him and rolled Their inward eyes in anguish and afright; There were some of them did shake at what was told, And they shook best who knew that he was right. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PORTRAIT OF MY ROOF by JAMES GALVIN EPITAPH FOR A SOLDIER by DAVID IGNATOW THE CROSS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 11 by JAMES JOYCE DOMESDAY BOOK: JANE FISHER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JAMES GARBER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE STORY OF THE ASHES AND THE FLAME by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |