His eyes are quickened so with grief, He can watch a grass or leaf Every instant grow; he can Clearly through a flint wall see, Or watch the startled spirit flee From the throat of a dead man. Across two counties he can hear And catch your words before you speak. The woodlouse or the maggot's weak Clamor rings in his sad ear, And noise so slight it would surpass Credence -- drinking sound of grass, Worm talk, clashing jaws of moth Chumbling holes in cloth; The groan of ants who undertake Gigantic loads for honor's sake (Their sinews creak, their breath comes thin); Whir of spiders when they spin, And minute whispering, mumbling, sighs Of idle grubs and flies. This man is quickened so with grief, He wanders god-like or like thief Inside and out, below, above, Without relief seeking lost love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: TOM MERRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HENRY MOORE'S STATUE AT LINCOLN CENTER by KAREN SWENSON A MEDITATION ON RHODE ISLAND COAL by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT PIANO by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE THE REAR-GUARD by SIEGFRIED SASSOON |