These changes at our weather-wisdom mock; But yesterday, the lord of all the year Upon the front of this white marble clock Sat like a star of honour, keen and clear, Small as a spark: to-day, the mantelshelf And time-piece mirror not his living beams; Nought but wan window-lights and pallid gleams, Where burned, in miniature, the Sun himself! Then frost, now cloudy thaw. In gilded coat Above the clock, the infant Samuel kneels In shine or shade, or when the thunder peals, He lifts his praying hands and murmurs not: Oh! may such holy temper be my lot, Whatever mood each passing day reveals! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEA GODS: 2 by HILDA DOOLITTLE THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM, THE MURDERER by THOMAS HOOD TACT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON FOUR PRELUDES ON PLAYTHINGS OF THE WIND by CARL SANDBURG FALLING ASLEEP by SIEGFRIED SASSOON |