Sweet as the lawn beneath his sandalled tread, Or the scarce rippled stream beneath his oar, So gently buffeted it laughed the more, His life was, and the few blithe words he said. One or two poets read he, and reread; One or two friends with boyish ardour wore Close to his heart, incurious of the lore Dodonian woods might murmur overhead. Ah, demons of the whirlwind, have a care, What, trumpeting your triumphs, ye undo! The earth once won, begins your long despair That never, never is his bliss for you. He breathed betimes this clement island air And in unwitting lordship saw the blue. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: WASHINGTON MCNEELY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SONNET: 1. THE BRIGHT MOON by CONRAD AIKEN CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN'S GENITALS by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE LOON ON FORRESTER'S POND by HAYDEN CARRUTH WE CAN'T WRITE OURSELVES INTO ETERNAL LIFE by DAVID IGNATOW DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 4. THE LOTTERY GIRL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |