The canyon is deep shade beneath And the tall pines rise out of it. In the sun beyond, brilliant as death, Is a mountain big with buried breath— Hark, I can hear the shout of it! The engine, on the curve ahead, Turns into sight and busily Sends up a spurt out of a bed Of coal that lay for centuries dead But now recovers dizzily. What shall I be, what shall I do In what divine experiment, When, ready to be used anew, I snap my nursing-bonds in two And fling away my cerement? Shall my good hopes continue still And, gathering infinity, Inhabit many a human will?— An Indian in me, toward that hill, Conceives himself divinity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF MY UNCLE ARLY by EDWARD LEAR ETERNITY by GRACE GRISWOLD BISBY THE GHOST OF ABEL; A RELATION IN THE VISIONS OF JEHOVAH by WILLIAM BLAKE MARCH'S DAUGHTER by MAUDE PHILIPS BOARD |