IF thou couldst empty all thyself of self, Like to a shell dishabited, Then might He find thee on the Ocean shelf, And say -- "This is not dead," -- And fill thee with Himself instead. But thou art all replete with very @3thou@1, And hast such shrewd activity, That, when He comes, He says: -- "This is enow Unto itself -- 'Twere better let it be: It is so small and full, there is no room for Me." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INTERRACIAL by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON LIFE'S MIRROR by MARY AINGE DE VERE ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 32 by PHILIP SIDNEY THE EAGLE AND THE MOLE by ELINOR WYLIE A PRAYER FOR MY DAUGHTER by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TO A PROFILE by BERNARD BARTON PURIFICATION OF YE B. VIRGIN (TO A BASE, A TENOR, AND TWO TREBLES) by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |