I dreamed a morning dream - a torrent brought From fruitless hills, was rushing deep and wide: It ran in rapids, like impatient thought; It wheeled in eddies, like bewildered pride: Bleak-faced Neology, in cap and gown, Peered up the channel of the spreading tide, As, with a starved expectancy, he cried, 'When will the Body of the Christ come down?' He came - not It, but He! no rolling waif Tost by the waves - no drowned and helpless form - But with unlapsing step, serene and safe, As once He trod the waters in the storm; The gownsman trembled as his God went by - I looked again, the torrent-bed was dry. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PHYLLIDA AND CORYDON by NICHOLAS BRETON TO A MOUSE, ON TURNING HER UP IN HER NEST WITH THE PLOUGH by ROBERT BURNS FORGETFULNESS by HAROLD HART CRANE OF MONEY by BARNABY (BARNABE) GOOGE THE VICAR by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED EPIGRAM: 27. THE FRUIT by THOMAS WYATT |