SOMETIMES, when in disgust at petty men I lose all faith in man's divinity, I hear thy voice—as on a troubled sea The stars shine down, and we are calm again. For when we hear, out-topping human ken, Thy accents calm in matchless majesty, We know 'twas God in very surety Guided the strokes of that inspired pen. But greater yet the truth that we behold— Touched by the sweep of thy rich imagery, We see the meanest life turn purest gold: Highest and lowest one humanity. Toilers have need of what the poet sings No more than he their strength to spread his wings. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 1 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING EPISODE OF HANDS by HAROLD HART CRANE WORLD'S WORTH by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI WHITE GRASS by ADA BAZZACCHINI ETHINTHUS, QUEEN OF WATERS by WILLIAM BLAKE MUSIC ON CHRISTMAS MORNING by ANNE BRONTE |