But Thought, like a mailed archer helmed and tall, Treads ever on the outward battlement, Striving to pierce--through embrasure and rent-- The secret of the gloom that girdleth all, The immeasurable gulf and interval, Nor heeds the random showers about him sent-- But whilst the cloudy squadrons tramp and wheel, Busy with weight and bar and implement, He casteth where to make his missiles fall-- Training his engine now, now lower, now higher, As a strong archer sets his bow of steel. Yet some may pass like meteors to the mark Of those blind ventures loosed into the dark: So swift the arrow flies, it taketh fire. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FRIENDLY WOOD by PAUL VALERY NO BABY IN THE HOUSE by CLARA G. DOLLIVER LUCIFER IN STARLIGHT by GEORGE MEREDITH CHRIST IN THE UNIVERSE by ALICE MEYNELL FOR YOU O DEMOCRACY by WALT WHITMAN JERUSALEM; THE EMANATION OF THE GIANT ALBION: CHAPTER 1 by WILLIAM BLAKE |