NOT in a close and bounded atmosphere Does life put forth its noblest and its best; 'Tis from the mountain's top that we look forth, And see how small the world is at our feet. There the free winds sweep with unfettered wing; There the sun rises first, and flings the last, The purple glories of the summer eve; There does the eagle build his mighty nest; And there the snow stains not its purity. When we descend, the vapour gathers round, And the path narrows: small and worthless things Obstruct our way: and, in ourselves, we feel The strong compulsion of their influence. We grow like those with whom we daily blend: To yield is to resemble. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NINETY-NINE IN THE SHADE by ROSSITER JOHNSON AMORETTI: 15 by EDMUND SPENSER THE EBB AND FLOW by EDWARD TAYLOR PASSED BY by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS LILIES: 17 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SATISFIED by HESTER A. BENEDICT NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 16 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT IN MEMORIAM A.M.W.; SEPTEMBER, 1910 (FOR A SOLEMN MUSIC) by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |