Here all is sunny, and when the truant gull Skims the green level of the lawn, his wing Dispetals roses; here the house is framed Of kneaded brick and the plumed mountain pine, Such clay as artists fashion and such wood As the tree-climbing urchin breaks. But there Eternal granite hewn from the living isle And dowelled with brute iron, rears a tower That from its wet foundation to its crown Of glittering glass, stands, in the sweep of winds, Immovable, immortal, eminent. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN OF THE EARTH by WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING (1817-1901) A HYMN TO CHRIST, AT THE AUTHOR'S LAST GOING INTO GERMANY by JOHN DONNE SNOW IN THE SUBURBS by THOMAS HARDY THE SCARE-FIRE by ROBERT HERRICK RIDDLE: MAN, STOOL, DOG by MOTHER GOOSE THE BURDEN OF NINEVEH by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE HERO OF VIMY; AN INCIDENT OF THE GREAT WAR by BRENT DOW ALLINSON |