There never was a man besmitten so With self, he couldn't throw the thing aside If drifting clouds but sued him forth to ride The undulating waters of the blue -- To leave the self behind or let it blow Off to the yesterdays that never glide The same sky twice, nor ever could abide That they toward other days should onward flow -- Except a man I know of conscious parts, Who sits him down from dawn to dusk to dark To squander each and every, all the arts Toward urging fourteen lines to be a lark! -- Who thinks, if thoughts grow words, and words a throng, The sum of such a noise would sing a song! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH (ON A COMMONPLACE PERSON WHO DIED IN BED) by AMY LEVY THE GUEST OF PHINEUS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET FOR THE SOUL'S KEEPING by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE EX ORE INFANTIS by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN IDOLS by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |