If what you seek is that austere estate, Pinioned, and cast in bronze, and laurel crowned, Let me resign you, then, to your cold fate -- Yours be the pinnacle, and mine the ground. But should you, tiring of the heights, descend To the level of my eyes, then look and see The light that you, yourself, have lit, my friend -- And do not smile, and do not pity me. You are the one I met when hope was gone. You are the one who set me on my way Singing, and not afraid, and dancing on The nettles of life as though to live were play. If I extract a pleasure from this hour, Blame not the hummingbird that seeks a flower. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEEP IN THE NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE THE RECRUIT by ROBERT WILLIAM CHAMBERS ON SIR PALMES FAIRBORNE'S TOMB, IN WESTERMINSTER ABBEY by JOHN DRYDEN A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 26 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN JEANIE MORRISON by WILLIAM MOTHERWELL |