HERE he, your law, vociferous wits, Strong son of the sounding anvil, sits; Black and sharp his eyebrow edge, His hand smites heavily as his sledge -- At will he kindles bright discourse, Or blows it out, with blustrous force; The fiery talk, with dominant clamour, Moulds as hot metal with his hammer. Yet this swart sinewy boisterer, His wife and babe sit smiling near, All fairness with all feebleness in her arms, Safe in their innocence and in their charms. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ROSE-BUD; TO A YOUNG LADY by WILLIAM BROOME THE SHEPHERD BOY'S SONG, FR. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS by JOHN BUNYAN THE WHITE KNIGHT'S SONG by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON A HYMN; AFTER READING 'LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT' by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A BALLAD OF TREES AND THE MASTER by SIDNEY LANIER |