GOOD spirits turn shuddering from scenes of decay, Mid-winter barrenness, autumnal rains, Pavements tenantless and no longer illuminated between night and day, Bleak houses issuing on unhealthy lanes. I, whom the dart of this sad universe Has pierced beyond all bleeding, whose dumb powers Rustle and heave and meditate a curse To waken hatred in the unweeting hours, Have wooed these things, and in confusion find A vision of my futility; possess A symbol, there, of my disordered mind; The tangible form of my own worthlessness. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BIT OF SKY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE CORNUCOPIA OF RED AND GREEN COMFITS by AMY LOWELL A DEPOSITION FROM LOVE by THOMAS CAREW ODE SUNG IN THE TOWN HALL, CONCORD, JULY 4, 1857 by RALPH WALDO EMERSON WITH AN ALBUM by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR VENUS OF THE LOUVRE by EMMA LAZARUS |