I THERE dwells a mighty pair - Slow, statuesque, intense - Amid the vague Immense: None can their chronicle declare, Nor why they be, nor whence. II Mother of all things made, Matchless in artistry, Unlit with sight is she. - And though her ever well-obeyed Vacant of feeling he. III The Matron mildly asks - A throb in every word - 'Our clay-made creatures, lord, How fare they in their mortal tasks Upon Earth's bounded bord? IV 'The fate of those I bear, Dear lord, pray turn and view, And notify me true; Shapings that eyelessly I dare Maybe I would undo. V 'Sometimes from lairs of life Methinks I catch a groan, Or multitudinous moan, As though I had schemed a world of strife, Working by touch alone.' VI 'World-weaver!' he replies, 'I scan all thy domain; But since nor joy nor pain It lies in me to recognize, Thy questionings are vain. VII 'World-weaver! what is Grief? And what are Right, and Wrong, And Feeling, that belong To creatures all who owe thee fief? Why is Weak worse than Strong?' ... VIII - Unanswered, curious, meek, She broods in sad surmise.... - Some say they have heard her sighs On Alpine height or Polar peak When the night tempests rise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVENEN IN THE VILLAGE by WILLIAM BARNES THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD by SAM WALTER FOSS GOLIATH AND DAVID by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES DANIEL WEBSTER by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE SPOUSE TO THE BELOVED by WILLIAM BALDWIN COMMENDATORY VERSES TO MASSINGER'S PLAY, 'THE BONDMAN' by WILLIAM BASSE |