THE paralytic man has dropped in death The crossing-sweeper's brush to which he clung, One-handed, twisted, dwarfed, scanted of breath, Although his hair was young. I saw this year the winter vines of France, Dwarfed, twisted, goblins in the frosty drouth -- Gnarled, crippled, blackened little stems askance On long hills to the South. Great green and golden hands of leaves ere long Shall proffer clusters in that vineyard wide. And O his might, his sweet, his wine, his song, His stature, since he died! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UPON A DYING LADY by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS SONNET TO GUIDO CAVALCANTI by DANTE ALIGHIERI GREEK SONG: 1. THE STORM OF DELPHI by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS PARADISE LOST: BOOK 1 by JOHN MILTON LINES WRITTEN IN AN OVID by MATTHEW PRIOR THE DEAD HEROES by ISAAC ROSENBERG FACADE: 17. DARK SONG by EDITH SITWELL |