WAS that the landmark? What,--the foolish well Whose wave, low down, I did not stoop to drink, But sat and flung the pebbles from its brink In sport to send its imaged skies pell-mell, (And mine own image, had I noted well!)-- Was that my point of turning?--I had thought The stations of my course should rise unsought, As altar-stone or ensigned citadel. But lo! the path is missed, I must go back, And thirst to drink when next I reach the spring Which once I stained, which since may have grown black. Yet though no light be left nor bird now sing As here I turn, I'll thank God, hastening, That the same goal is still on the same track. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AIR: 'CAPTAIN JINKS' by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE PLEASED CAPTIVE; A SONG by PHILIP AYRES LINES TO BE SPOKEN BY THOMAS DENMAN.....WHEN FOUR YEARS OLD by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SOLILOQUIES OF A SMALL-TOWN TAXI-DRIVER: ON THE EMOTIONS by EDGAR BARRATT |