REMEMBER, O man, how your father made you, his son! Then you will cease from your boasting and put it by. In Plato's dreams was this idle fancy begun -- He called you immortal, a creature sprung from the sky. You are made of dust. Are you proud of that? So a man Might deceitfully dress up the truth in a lordlier name. But if you would know what you are, why then, you began Your life in unquenchable lust and a drop of shame. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DINNER IN A QUICK LUNCH ROOM by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET BUT NOW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE HARD TIMES IN ELFLAND; A STORY OF CHRISTMAS EVE by SIDNEY LANIER UNCLE JIM'S BAPTIST REVIVAL HYMN by SIDNEY LANIER THE DAY OF THE DEAD SOLDIERS; MARY 30, 1869 by EMMA LAZARUS |