Fluttered across his face From the dark vaults of heredity The family smile, The very markings Of those whose lives had been spent, Listening at the blank doors Of human conduct. And for him, In whose mind clod-breaking effort Toiled ever at new earth, In whose reality lay the hidden seed Of the unproven, Even for him, to house this activity, That had not been before, Nor should be again, There was no new contour— Only the smile of his mother, The listening fatuous posture Of his father. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANSWER TO MASTER WITHER'S SONG, 'SHALL I, WASTING IN DESPAIR?' by BEN JONSON LONE DOG by IRENE RUTHERFORD MCLEOD SONNETS FROM SERIES RELATING TO EDGAR ALLEN POE: 1 by SARAH HELEN POWER WHITMAN OLD SAUGATUCK MILL by GRACE JEWETT AUSTIN TO A YOUNG MOTHER by HELEN DARBY BERNING THE GIFT by ALICE EWING BLACKWELL |