TO see the Mother, naturing Nature, stand All racked and wrung by her unfaithful lord, Her hopes dismayed by his defiling hand, Her passioned plans for bloom and beauty marred. Where she would mint a perfect mould, an ill; Where she would don divinest hues, a stain, Over her purposed genial hour a chill, Upon her charm of flawless flesh a blain: Her loves dependent on a feature's trim, A whole life's circumstance on hap of birth, A soul's direction on a body's whim, Eternal Heaven upon a day of Earth, Is frost to flower of heroism and worth, And fosterer of visions ghast and grim. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BETWEEN THE LINES by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE LAW OF THE YUKON by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! by WALT WHITMAN THE LOVER SHOWETH HOW HE IS FORSAKEN by THOMAS WYATT A PRIZE RIDDLE ON HERSELF WHEN 24 by ELIZABETH FRANCES AMHERST |