ONCE, in my moment of earth, Before the immortal re-birth, I thought of my flesh as a thing Like to the house of a king,— Beautiful, worthy to stand Proud on the heavenly strand. I remember it now as a clod Prone in the gardens of God,— Mean, without honor or beauty, Justified but by the duty Of spending its pittance of power In rearing a heavenly flower. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LESSER EPISTLES: TO A LADY ON HER PASSION FOR OLD CHINA by JOHN GAY WITCH-WIFE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY TO JANE: KEEN STARS by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE DOUBLE STANDARD by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS SONNET: 12 by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE LAST MAN: RAIN by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |