Do not guard this as rich stuff without mark Closed in a cedarn dark, Nor lay it down with tragic masks and greaves Licked by the tongues of leaves. Nor let it be as eggs under the wings Of helpless startled things, Nor encompassed by song, nor any glory Perverse and transitory. Rather, like shards and straw upon coarse ground, Of little worth when found: Rubble in gardens, it and stones alike, That any spade may strike. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 1. SUNRISE IN THE TROPICS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON GUNS AS KEYS: AND THE GREAT GATE SWINGS by AMY LOWELL DOMESDAY BOOK: ARCHIBALD LOWELL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOSEPH DIXON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |