The Tower in tiers of architraves, Fair circle over cirque, A trunk of rounded colonades, The maker's master-work, Impends with all its pillared tribes, And, poising them, debates: It thinks to plunge -- but hesitates; Shrinks back -- yet fain would slide; Withholds itself -- itself would urge; Hovering, shivering on the verge, A would-be suicide! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BALLAD OF PROSE AND RHYME by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON THE DESPAIRING LOVER by WILLIAM WALSH (1663-1707) MAN FRAIL AND GOD ETERNAL by ISAAC WATTS AS NIGHT COMES by CHARLES G. ADAMS VULTURES by GHALIB IBN RIBAH AL-HAJJAM JIM'S WHISTLE by ALEXANDER ANDERSON A LOVE-MESSAGE by LILLIAN CORBETT BARNES SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 9 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |