STANDING on tiptoe ever since my youth, Striving to grasp the future just above, I hold at length the only future -- Truth, And Truth is Love. I feel as one who being awhile confined Sees drop to dust about him all his bars: -- The clay grows less, and, leaving it, the mind Dwells with the stars. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES TETHYS' FESTIVAL: SHADOWS by SAMUEL DANIEL THE GODODDIN: CONAN by ANEIRIN SONNET: 18 by RICHARD BARNFIELD YESTERDAY by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN THE AUTHOR'S LAST WORDS TO HIS STUDENTS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |