I, WAKEFUL for the skylark voice in men, Or straining for the angel of the light, Rebuked am I by hungry ear and sight, When I behold one lamp that through our fen Goes hourly where most noisome; hear again A tongue that loathsomeness will not affright From speaking to the soul of us forthright What things our craven senses keep from ken. This is the doing of the Christ; the way He went on earth; the service above guile To prop a tyrant creed: it sings, it shines; Cries to the Mammonites: Allay, allay Such misery as by these present signs Brings vengeance down; nor them who rouse revile. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE STORY OF THE ASHES AND THE FLAME by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON CALDWELL OF SPRINGFIELD [JUNE 23, 1780] by FRANCIS BRET HARTE THOMAS MACDONAGH by FRANCIS LEDWIDGE THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: THE FOUR WINDS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE TROPICS IN NEW YORK by CLAUDE MCKAY |