ONLY so much of power each day -- So much nerve-force brought in play; If it goes for politics or trade, Ends gained or money made, You have it not for the soul and God -- The choice is yours, to soar or plod. So much water in the rill: It may go to turn the miller's wheel, Or sink in the desert, or flow on free To brighten its banks in meadows green, Till broadening out, fair fields between, It streams to the moon-enchanted sea. Only so little power each day: Week by week days slide away; Ere the life goes, what shall it be -- A trade -- a game -- a mockery, Or the gate of a rich Eternity? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEA GODS: 3 by HILDA DOOLITTLE RIDDLE ON THE LETTER H (2) by CATHERINE MARIA FANSHAWE THE PRIMROSE by ROBERT HERRICK THE INTERCEPTED SALUTE by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN LESSONS FROM THE GORSE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SUBSTITUTION by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE WINDS by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES |