A MID a waste and solitary field, Upon the twilight boundary of the day, Upspake the timeless flintstone huge and gray: "Why should my counsel be forever sealed? To thee an ancient truth shall be revealed -- To thee, a wavering mortal, brief of stay: -- Something of kin, -- thou piece of passioned clay, Art thou and I, whom passion ne'er did wield; For, lo! did not Deucalion at the flood Behind him fling us stones -- and men we grew? With limbs we moved abroad, with lips we spake! And hast not thou, with grief, seen flesh-and-blood Become to thee as stones, that Pity's dew Could never melt, nor yet thine anger break?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YUSSOUF by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL TO MY ANTENOR, MARCH 16, 1661/2 by KATHERINE PHILIPS THE ELDER'S WARNING; A LAY OF THE CONVOCATION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE ANSWER OF BOSTON by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE SUBJECT LOVE, FOR THE VASE AT BATHEASTON VILLA by JANE BOWDLER DOUGLAS'S RIDE by EMILY JANE BRONTE |