I do not doubt some paltry sheet Encircled with a rubber band Sets forth in angles, dollars, feet, How Cyrus Wentworth owns the land. I only know the brutal spade Has slaughtered my anemones, And murderous axe and saw have made A massacre among my trees. I wonder does the title deed Mention the river gleams afar, That glimpse of where the cattle feed, That view of where the willows are. I wonder do the terms include The sunshine on the hickory bark, The twitter of the robin's brood, The carol of the meadow lark. How strange! A trail of sodden ink Can seal to one dull man for aye That granary of the bobolink, That coppice where the squirrels play. How strange! A lump of gold can buy Delights that earth and heaven fill, Those mellow ranges of the eye From Morristown to Cooper Hill. How passing strange! that one, half blind, Alone to this fair crest may go, While all remaining human kind Must take the valley road below. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON CATULLUS by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: HIAWATHA'S DEPARTURE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 79. THE MONOCHORD by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI MOST ANY BIT OF LANDSCAPE by JEAN CAMERON AGNEW ANYWHERE OUT OF THE WORLD by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE HADRIAN IN EGYPT by GORDON BOTTOMLEY HARVEST OUT OF STONE by VERNE BRIGHT |