Lordly amid the rotting houses of the street It lifts a marble scorn; while at its carven feet They crowd in ancient filth. It does not look at them, These crumbling beggars catching at its dark and stony hem. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MINERVA JONES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS CAMPUS SONNET: TALK by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE WAY OF THE CONVENTICLE OF THE TREES by HAYDEN CARRUTH WORDS IN A CERTAIN APPROPRIATE MODE by HAYDEN CARRUTH A TIME TO DANCE by CECIL DAY LEWIS |