HE clasps the crag with hooked [or crooked] hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SAVING WAY by HAYDEN CARRUTH ONE FAVORED ACORN by ROBERT FROST WE CAN'T WRITE OURSELVES INTO ETERNAL LIFE by DAVID IGNATOW MONODY ON THE DEATH OF WILLIAM MARION REEDY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS LANCELOT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON PLAYING JACKS IN BHAKTAPUR by KAREN SWENSON |