I. UPON a rock I sat—a mountain-side, Far, far forsaken of the old sea's lip; A rock where ancient waters' rise and dip, Recoil and plunge, eddy, and oscillant tide, Had worn and worn, while races lived and died, Involved channels. Where the sea-weed's drip Followed the ebb, now crumbling lichens sip Sparse dews of heaven that down with sunset slide. I sat long-gazing southward. A dry flow Of withering wind sucked up my drooping strength, Itself weak from the desert's burning length. Behind me piled, away and up did go Great sweeps of savage mountains—up, away, Where snow gleams ever, panthers roam, they say. II. This infant world has taken long to make, Nor hast Thou done with it, but mak'st it yet, And wilt be working on when death has set A new mound in some churchyard for my sake. On flow the centuries without a break; Uprise the mountains, ages without let; The lichens suck; the hard rock's breast they fret; Years more than past, the young earth yet will take. But in the dumbness of the rolling time, No veil of silence shall encompass me— Thou wilt not once forget and let me be; Rather wouldst thou some old chaotic prime Invade, and, moved by tenderness sublime, Unfold a world, that I, thy child, might see. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A DEAD CHILD by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES SONNET: AUTUMN by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE BATTLE OF NASEBY by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY TO MY FRIENDS, WHO RIDICULED A TENDER LEAVE-TAKING by MATTHEW ARNOLD FRAGMENT OF AN ODE TO PRINCE CHARLES by ROBERT BURNS TO MISS JESSY LEWARS by ROBERT BURNS |