LET shepherds carol of the pearly mead Where all is innocent and all is fair: Sweet is the dewy breath of country air,— May Love in holidays me thither lead! But the great city with its aching need, Its human load of passion and of care, Cries to my heart, bids me arise and dare, And do her service with unhasting speed. Too sad her tune for any shepherd's lips, Pan may not pass her gateways with his flute: I love her, less for her imperial state, Her lovely dome, her river with its ships, Than for the spark of God within the brute, The human soul not yet regenerate. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAIRY TALE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD A LITTLE BOY'S DREAM by KATHERINE MANSFIELD IN EQUAL SACRIFICE by ROBERT FROST THE ARABIAN SHAWL by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE DAY AND THE WORK by EDWIN MARKHAM |