. . . . Then I rose up, And swept the dust of planets from my eyes; And wandered singing down that singing hour, pausing to pluck a mountain like a flower That grew against the skies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEPULCHRE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DEATH SNIPS PROUD MEN by CARL SANDBURG ON AN UNFINISHED STATUE BY MICHAEL ANGELO by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE TREE OF SONG by SARA TEASDALE EPITAPH IN BALLADE FORM by FRANCOIS VILLON A HUNDRED COLLARS by ROBERT FROST |