While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening to empire, And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the mass hardens, I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots to make earth. Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and deca y; and home to the mother. You making haste haste on decay: not blameworthy; life is good, be it stubbornly long or suddenly A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than mountains: shine, perishing republic. But for my children, I would have them keep their distance from the thickening center; corruption Never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the monster's feet there are left the mountains. And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man, a clever servant, insufferable master. There is the trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught--they say-- God, when he walked on earth | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE QUESTION ANSWER'D by WILLIAM BLAKE TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY by ROBERT BURNS ODE TO WISDOM by ELIZABETH CARTER EPISTLE TO DR. ARBUTHNOT by ALEXANDER POPE DARDANELLES by THEODORE AUBANEL PSALM 23. THE SHEPHERD'S PSALM by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE PSALM 26. JUDICA ME DEUS by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ANOTHER JOURNEY FROM BETHUNE TO CUINCHY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |