Aye, well I know 'tis ghastly to descend that valley: Preachers, musicians, poets, painters, always render it, Philosophs exploit -- the battlefield, the ship at sea, the myriad beds, all lands, All, all the past have enter'd, the ancientest humanity we know, Syria's, India's, Egypt's, Greece's, Rome's; Till now for us under our very eyes spreading the same to-day, Grim, ready, the same to-day, for entrance, yours and mine, Here, here 'tis limn'd. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. KESSLER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE FLOWER BOAT by ROBERT FROST STORIES ARE MADE OF MISTAKES by JAMES GALVIN SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JONAS KEENE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO A PRIZE BIRD by MARIANNE MOORE |