The poet in his lone yet genial hour Gives to his eyes a magnifying power: Or rather he emancipates his eyes From the black shapeless accidents of size - In unctuous cones of kindling coal, Or smoke upwreathing from the pipe's trim bole, His gifted ken can see Phantoms of sublimity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ESSAY ON STONE by HAYDEN CARRUTH GETHSEMANE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PEACE (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 5. THE DANCING GIRL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON OCTAVES: 21 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |