This detail from the thesis falls Without a crash into the air; The speaker's pointer pauses, crawls Across the board, the listeners there Accept the fact that he has reckoned The doings of this freighted second. And we, whose coarse-grained hours show clear On the vacant clock with slow hands turning, To tell the time of soul or year, The lover gone, the dry leaves burning— Jot down vast happenings in a phrase, Neat understatement of God's ways. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LITTLE BOY BLUE by EUGENE FIELD EPIGRAMS: BOOK I, 1 by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS TO A LADY: SHE REFUSING TO CONTINUE A DISPUTE WITH ME by MATTHEW PRIOR ZOLA by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE SUN'S TRAVELS by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON A SLEEPLESS NIGHT by ALFRED AUSTIN SONNETS OF MANHOOD: SONNET 25. 'SOMETHING WAS WANTING' by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |