Still craves the spirit: never Nature solves That yearning which with her first breath began, And in its blinder instinct still devolves On god or pagod, Manada or man, Or lower yet, brute service, apes and wolves. By Borneo's surf the bare barbarian Still to the sands beneath him bows to pray: Give Greek his god, the Bheel his devil sway And what remains to me, who count no odds Between such Lord and him I saw today, The farmer mounted on his market load, Bundles of wool and locks of upland hay, The son of toil that his own works bestrode, And him, Ophion, earliest of the gods? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COLORS by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET LETTER TO JOSEPH WARREN by ROBERT FROST THEY HAVEN'T HEARD THE WEST IS OVER by JAMES GALVIN DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 6. SUNSET IN THE TROPICS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ON HUNTINGDON'S 'MIRANDA' by SIDNEY LANIER THE GARDEN OF ADONIS by EMMA LAZARUS WAITER IN A CALIFORNIA VIETNAMESE RESTURANT by CLARENCE MAJOR |