WHEN first the unflowering Fern-forest Shadowed the dim lagoons of old, A vague, unconscious, long unrest Swayed the great fronds of green and gold. Until the flexible stem grew rude, The fronds began to branch and bower, And lo! upon the unblossoming wood There breaks a dawn of apple-flower. Then on the fruitful forest-boughs For ages long the unquiet ape Swung happy in his airy house And plucked the apple, and sucked the grape. Until at length in him there stirred The old, unchanged, remote distress, That pierced his world of wind and bird With some divine unhappiness. Not love, nor the wild fruits he sought, Nor the fierce battles of his clan Could still the unborn and aching thought, Until the brute became the man. Long since; and now the same unrest Goads to the same invisible goal, Till some new gift, undream'd, unguess'd, End the new travail of the soul. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WANTS OF MAN by JOHN QUINCY ADAMS WRITTEN AFTER SWIMMING FROM SESTOS TO ABYDOS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ON THE BRINK by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY ACCORDING TO THE MIGHTY WORKING by THOMAS HARDY PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 3 by EDWARD TAYLOR THE HOUND OF HEAVEN by FRANCIS THOMPSON INCIDENT AT BRUGES by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH AN EARNEST SUIT [TO HIS UNKIND MISTRESS NOT TO FORESAKE HIM] by THOMAS WYATT |