For moveless limbs no pity I crave, That never were swift! Still all I prize, Laughter and thought and friends, I have; No fool to heave luxurious sighs For the woods and hills that I never knew. The more excellent way's yet mine! And you Flower-laden come to the clean white cell, And we talk as ever -- am I not the same? With our hearts we love, immutable, You without pity, I without shame. We talk as of old; as of old you go Out under the sky, and laughing, I know, Flit through the streets, your heart all me; Till you gain the world beyond the town. Then -- I fade from your heart, quietly; And your fleet steps quicken. The strong down Smiles you welcome there; the woods that love you Close lovely and conquering arms above you. O ever-moving, O lithe and free! Fast in my linen prison I press On impassable bars, or emptily Laugh in my great loneliness. And still in the white neat bed I strive Most impotently against that gyve; Being less now than a thought, even, To you alone with your hills and heaven. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMPRESSIONS OF FRANCOIS-MARIE AROUET (DE VOLTAIRE) by EZRA POUND GRAMERCY PARK by SARA TEASDALE ONLY OF THEE AND ME by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE SUNFLOWER, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: 'EQUALITY OF SACRIFICE' by RUDYARD KIPLING A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |