YE WHO have passed Death's haggard hills; and ye Whom trees that knew your sires shall cease to know And still stand silent:--is it all a show,-- A wisp that laughs upon the wall?--decree Of some inexorable supremacy Which ever, as man strains his blind surmise From depth to ominous depth, looks past his eyes, Sphinx-faced with unabashed augury? Nay, rather question the Earth's self. Invoke The storm-felled forest-trees moss-grown to-day Whose roots are hillocks where the children play; Or ask the silver sapling 'neath what yoke Those stars, his spray-crown's clustering gems, shall wage Their journey still when his boughs shrink with age. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPISTLE TO AUGUSTA by GEORGE GORDON BYRON LAVENDER'S BLUE (1) by MOTHER GOOSE DEDICATIONS AND INSCRIPTIONS: 8. BEAM-VERSES AT WELL KNOWE by GORDON BOTTOMLEY TO BEAUTY by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |