In a little house keep I pictures suspended, it is not a fix'd house, It is round, it is only a few inches from one side to the other; Yet behold, it has room for all the shows of the world, all memories! Here the tableaus of life, and here the groupings of death; Here, do you know this? this is cicerone himself, With finger rais'd he points to the prodigal pictures. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: THE UNKNOWN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MISSING THE BO IN THE HENHOUSE by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE SITTING by CECIL DAY LEWIS EXPLICATION OF AN IMAGINARY TEXT by JAMES GALVIN IN THE JEWISH SYNAGOGUE AT NEWPORT by EMMA LAZARUS THE NIGHT MOTHS by EDWIN MARKHAM |