Sand in the gale whirls up, Pricks and stifles our flesh, Blinds and deafens our sense So that we cannot hear The crumbling downfall of the waves Nor see the limpid sunset any more. But could we thrust from us This threat, this misery, Borrow the mountain's strength As now its loneliness, Hurl back this menace on itself, Crush bronze with bronze- Why, it would be as if some tall slim god, Unburdened of his age-long apathy, Took in his hand the thin horn of the moon And set it to his lips And blew sharp wild shrill notes Such as our hearts, our lonely hearts, Have yearned for in the dumb bleak silences. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOKEN AT A CASTLE GATE by DONALD (GRADY) DAVIDSON THE STORY OF THE END OF THE STORY by JAMES GALVIN TO ATLANTA UNIVERSITY - ITS FOUNDERS AND TEACHERS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL THE LANDSCAPE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |