I HE measures all the drops with wondrous skill, Which the black clouds, His floating bottles, fill. II Didst Thou one end of air's wide curtain hold, And help the bales of ether to unfold? Say, which cærulean pile was by Thy hand unroll'd? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOHN BROWN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TO DAISIES, NOT TO SHUT TOO SOON by ROBERT HERRICK TO LEIGH HUNT, ESQ. by JOHN KEATS MR. FLOOD'S PARTY by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TWO SONGS FROM THE PERSIAN: 2 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH DECLASSE by ANNA EMILIA BAGSTAD THE CALL OF THE DESERT by EMILY BALDWIN |