HIGH priest of Homer, not elect in vain, Deep trumpets blow before thee, shawms behind Mix music with the rolling wheels that wind Slow through the laboring triumph of thy train: Fierce history, molten in thy forging brain, Takes form and fire and fashion from thy mind, Tormented and transmuted out of kind: But howsoe'er thou shift thy strenuous strain, Like Tailor smooth, like Fisher swollen, and now Grim Yarrington scarce bloodier marked than thou, Then bluff as Mayne's or broad-mouthed Barry's glee, Proud still with hoar predominance of brow And beard like foam swept off the broad blown sea, Where'er thou go, men's reverence goes with thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE MEMORY OF THE HEART by DANIEL WEBSTER SPRING IN NEW ENGLAND by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH IN AN OLD CEMETERY by LILLAH A. ASHLEY BEING RETIRED, COMPLAINS AGAINST THE COURT by PHILIP AYRES LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS QUATORZAINS: 11. A CLOCK STRIKING AT MIDNIGHT by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |