Alembics turn to stranger things Strange things, but never while we live Shall magic turn this bronze that sings To singing water in a sieve. The trumpeters of Caesar's guard Salute his rigorous bastions With ordered bruit; the bronze is hard Though there is silver in the bronze. Our mutable tongue is like the sea, Curled wave and shattering thunder-fit; Dangle in strings of sand shall he Who smooths the ripples out of it. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NEBUCHADNEZZAR: OR EATING GRASS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, ESQ., ON SEEING HIS PICTURE ... by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE OLD MAID by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |