Classic and Contemporary Poetry
IT IS A REAL PLACE, by HENRY DAVID THOREAU Poet Analysis Poet's Biography Last Line: Lies high in my thought Subject(s): Boston | ||||||||
It is a real place, Boston, I tell it to your face. And no dream of mine To ornament a line I can not come nearer to God & Heaven Than I live to Walden even. It is a part of me which I have not prophaned I live by the shore of me detained. Laden with my dregs I stand on my legs, While all my pure wine I to nature consign. I am its stoney shore And the breeze that passes o'er In the hollow of my hand Are its water and its sand; Its deepest resort Lies high in my thought. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CLEAR AND COLDER; BOSTON COMMON by ROBERT FROST THE BOSTON ATHENAEUM by AMY LOWELL THE SEVEN CITIES OF AMERICA by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SUNDAY IN BOSTON by JOHN UPDIKE BOSTON YEAR by ELIZABETH ALEXANDER THE THANKSGIVING IN BOSTON HARBOR [JUNE 12, 1630] by HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH |
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