O Eros of the mountains, of the earth, One thing I know of thee that thou art old, Far, sovereign, lonesome tyrant of the dearth Of chaos, ruler of the primal cold! None gave thee nurture: chaos' icy rings Pressed on thy plenitude. O fostering power, Thine the first voice, first warmth, first golden wings, First blowing zephyr, earliest opened flower; Thine the first smile of Time: thou hast no mate, Thou art alone forever giving all: After thine image, Love, thou did'st create Man to be poor, man to be prodigal; And thus, O awful god, he is endued With the raw hungers of thy solitude. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BEACON; A MUSICAL DRAMA by JOANNA BAILLIE MOTHER AND POET; TURIN, AFTER THE NEWS FROM GAETA, 1861 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING VERS LIBRE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS FATHER, THY WILL BE DONE by SARAH FLOWER ADAMS THE BRIDES' TRAGEDY: ACT 3, SCENE 2 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |