THINK, the ragged turf-boy urges O'er the dusty road his asses; Think, on the sea-shore far the lonely Heron wings along the sand; Think, in woodland under oak-boughs Now the streaming sunbeam passes: And bethink thee thou art servant To the same all-moving hand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MAIDEN MELANCHOLY by RAINER MARIA RILKE THE NATIVE LAND by FRANCISCO DE ALDANA EVENING by ISABELLA LOCKHART ALDERMAN PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 36. ASH-SHAKIR by EDWIN ARNOLD TWO SONNETS: 1 by DAVID P. BERENBERG NO CONTINUING CITY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: KING SOLOMON by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |