Forbodings are the fiends of Recreance; The master of the moment, the clean seer Of ages, too securely scans what is Ever to be appalled at what is not; He sees beyond the groaning borough lines Of Hell, God's highways gleaming, and he knows That Love's complete communion is the end Of anguish to the liberated man. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IRELAND; WRITTEN FOR THE ART AUTOGRAPH DURING IRISH FAMINE by SIDNEY LANIER A MODEST LOVE; SONG by EDWARD DYER SONNET: 3 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AMORETTI: 64 by EDMUND SPENSER STELLA'S BIRTHDAY, 1726-7 by JONATHAN SWIFT |