He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees, . Prepares your brittle substance For the ethereal blow, By fainter hammers, further heard, Then nearer, then so slow . Your breath has time to straighten, Your brain to bubble cool, -- Deals one imperial thunderbolt That scalps your naked soul. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LONELY BURIAL by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET SWEET CLOVER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS STALKING LEMURS by KAREN SWENSON |