CHANCE-CHILD of some lone sorrow on the hills, Bach finds a babe: instant the great heart fills With love of that fair innocence, Conveys it thence, Clothes it with all divinest harmonies, Gives it sure foot to tread the dim degrees Of Pilate's stair -- Hush! hush! its last sweet breath Wails far along the passages of death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BALINESE WITCH DOCTOR by KAREN SWENSON UPON DRINKING IN A BOWL by ANACREON A PRAYER by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE WORLD-SOUL by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE NYMPH COMPLAINING FOR THE DEATH OF HER FAUN [OR, FAWN] by ANDREW MARVELL THE ABSTINENT LOVER by ABUL BAHR VOICES BY A RIVER by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |