THAT was not a barren time When the new world calmly lay Bare unto the frosty rime, Open to the burning day. Though her young limbs were not clad With the colours of the spring, Yet she was all inward glad, Knowing all she bore within, Undeveloped, blossoming. There was beauty, such as feeds Poets in their secret hours; Music mute; and all the seeds And the signs of all the flowers. There was wealth, beyond the gold Hid in oriental caves; There was -- all we now behold 'Tween our cradles and our graves. Judge not, then, the poet's dreams Barren all, and void of good: There are in them azure gleams, Wisdom not all understood. Fables, with a heart of truth; Mysteries, that unfold in light; Morals, beautiful for youth; Starry lessons for the night. Unto man, in peace and strife, True and false, and weak and strong, Unto @3all@1, in death and life, Speaks the poet in his song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CORNUCOPIA OF RED AND GREEN COMFITS by AMY LOWELL THE GOLDEN NET by WILLIAM BLAKE KEEP A-PLUGGING AWAY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE PROBLEM by RALPH WALDO EMERSON SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE. 6. IN THE CEMETERY by THOMAS HARDY A CHRISTMAS CAROL by JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND |