ONCE hardly in a cycle blossometh A flower-like soul ripe with the seeds of song, A spirit foreordained to cope with wrong, Whose divine thoughts are natural as breath, Who the old Darkness thickly scattereth With starry words, that shoot prevailing light Into the deeps, and wither, with the blight Of serene Truth, the coward heart of Death: Woe, if such spirit thwart its errand high, And mock with lies the longing soul of man! Yet one age longer must true Culture lie, Soothing her bitter fetters as she can, Until new messages of love outstart At the next beating of the infinite Heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOHENGRIN; PROEM by EMMA LAZARUS THE DOLL BELIEVERS by CLARENCE MAJOR SONNET TO GUIDO CAVALCANTI by DANTE ALIGHIERI THE TEACHER by LESLIE PINCKNEY HILL ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH IN AN ATELIER by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |