THERE, where before no master action struck The grim Fate in the face, and cried "What now?", Where gain and commonplace lay in their ruck, And pulled the beetroots, milked the muddy cow, Heard the world's rumours, wished themselves good luck, And slept, and rose, and lived and died somehow, -- A light is striking keen as angels' spears, Brightness outwelling, cool as roses, there; From every crossroad majesty appears, Each cottage gleams like Athens on the air; Ghosts by broad daylight, answered not by fears But bliss unwordable, are walking there. Who thirsts, or aches, or gropes as going blind? Friend, drink with me at these fair-foliaged wells, Or on the bruised life lay this unction kind, Or mark this light that lives in lily-bells, There rests and always shall the wandering mind, Those clumsy farms to-day grow miracles: Since past each wall and every common mark, Field path and wooden bridge, there once went by The flower of manhood, daring the huge dark, The famished cold, the roaring in the sky; They died in splendour, these who claimed no spark Of glory save the light in a friend's eye. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LYING IN THE GRASS by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE WRINKLES by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE POTATOES' DANCE by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY THE WEST WIND by JOHN MASEFIELD THE SNOW MAN by WALLACE STEVENS SIX O'CLOCK by TRUMBULL STICKNEY SONGS OF NIGHT TO MORNING: 1. AT THE THEATRE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |