AND thorns, but did the sculptor spare Sharp steel upon the marble, ere, After long vigils and much care And cruel discipline of blows, From the dead stone the statue rose? Think you I grudge the seed, who see Broad armed the consummated tree? Or would go back if it might be To some old geologic time With Saurians wallowing in fat slime, Before the rivers and the rains Had fashioned, and made fair with Plains And shadowy places fresh with flowers, This green and quiet world of ours. Where, as the grass in Springtime heals The furrow of the winter's wheels, Serene maturity conceals All memory on the perfect earth Of the bygone tempestuous birth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY: THE GHOST WHOSE LIPS WERE WARM; FOR GEOFFREY GORER by EDITH SITWELL JACOBITE'S TOAST (TO AN OFFICER IN THE ARMY) by JOHN BYROM FOR LOVE'S SAKE, KISS ME ONCE AGAIN! by BEN JONSON THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: DECEMBER by EDMUND SPENSER A QUESTION by JOHN MILLINGTON SYNGE |