I reared your fathers long ago— Big, savage children—from the breast, But in the circle of my glow You sit to-night a haughty guest, For far beyond their artless day Your lofty trail has stretched away. So wise! so wise! But still the child is in your eyes. Your fathers feared the club and claw, Their days were full of fight and flight; Behind you stands your mighty law To guard your lonely sleep to-night, Or, if some lawless brute run free, A rifle gleams across your knee. So strong! so wise! But still the fear is in your eyes. They filled their little tents with spoil, Then vaguely longed for greater things; Your shining cities spurn the soil And through your valleys plenty sings; You span the seas they endless deemed And rule a world they never dreamed. So great! so wise! But still their longing in your eyes. They made them gods of flood and fire; With simple awe they watched the stars; You bend all powers to your desire; The river gods must draw your cars, The drudging fire gods drive your fleets, The lightning slaves about your streets. So proud! so wise! Yet their old wonder in your eyes! They dreamed a god might in them dwell Who lived beyond the silenced heart; You know your mortal self so well— A wondrous thing in every part, But earthbound as this gaunt mesquite Or firelit dust about your feet. So hard! so wise! But still the god is in your eyes. Poor little primal thing am I, Great stranger, yet I mock your lore; Your thickest volumes often lie And these still stars could tell you more, The wind that sighs across the sand Or I, but could you understand? So wise! so wise! A puzzled child within your eyes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LITTLE BOY BLUE by EUGENE FIELD TO HESTER [SAVORY] by CHARLES LAMB NEW YORK AT NIGHT by AMY LOWELL NEURASTENIA by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON THE GRAVE OF SHELLEY by OSCAR WILDE EIGHT VOLUNTEERS by LANSING C. BAILEY |