And yet tonight, when summer daylight dies, I crossed the fields against the summer gust And with me, rising from my feet like dust, A crowd of flea-like grasshoppers, like flies Presaging dry and dry continuance; yet Where they prefigure change, all signals must Fail in the dry when they forebode the wet ... I know not. All tonight seemed mystery: From the full fields that pressed so heavily, The burden of the blade, the waste of blowth, The twinkling of the smallest life that flits To where, and all unconsciously, he sits: My little boy, symbolling eternity, Like the god Brahma, with his toe in his mouth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FANCY IN NUBIBUS; OR, THE POET IN THE CLOUDS by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE DISCONTENTS IN DEVON by ROBERT HERRICK THE WHITE MAN'S BURDEN by RUDYARD KIPLING TWILIGHT AT SEA by AMELIA B. WELBY THE SINGER IN THE PRISON by WALT WHITMAN PETITION OF A SCHOOLBOY TO HIS FATHER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE PHOENIX TO MRS. BUTTS by WILLIAM BLAKE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 34. REMINDING HER OF A PROMISE (2) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |