spacialesque trumpets corrode the haute peaks of the world with spiral blasts to remember Reason who gambled with Freedom for a pennyworth of salt, forsaking the sea, tumbling about the clouds to rivet without fail, to fail clutching his bosom with remembrance nimble feet we had, dancing to the crisp tune of crustaceans and so we came to grips with the godhead deifying the joints, whirling on a spoke of the sick wheel | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO FORTUNE by JAMES THOMSON (1700-1748) THREE THINGS by JOSEPH AUSLANDER THE LOAN by SABINE BARING-GOULD TO MY WIFE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 44. FAREWELL TO JULIET (6) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE WANDERER: 4. IN SWITZERLAND: THE HEART AND NATURE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY DAY IN PASSION WEEK: SATURDAY by JOHN BYROM TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. AS TO YOU O MOON by EDWARD CARPENTER |