THINK, the ragged turf-boy urges O'er the dusty road his asses; Think, on the sea-shore far the lonely Heron wings along the sand; Think, in woodland under oak-boughs Now the streaming sunbeam passes: And bethink thee thou art servant To the same all-moving hand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARIA CALLAS, THE WOMAN BEHIND THE LEGEND* by MADELINE DEFREES EVERYONE KNOWS WHOM THE SAVED ENVY by JAMES GALVIN READING WHITMAN IN A TOILET STALL by TIMOTHY LIU SPRING WIND IN LONDON by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DOMEDAY BOOK: JOHN CAMPBELL AND CARL EATON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |