Yet, when I muse on what life is, I seem Rather to patience prompted, than that proud Prospect of hope which France proclaims so loud -- France, famed in all great arts, in none supreme; Seeing this vale, this earth, whereon we dream, Is on all sides o'ershadowed by the high Uno'erleaped Mountains of Necessity, Sparing us narrower margin than we deem. Nor will that day dawn at a human nod, When, bursting through the network superposed By selfish occupation -- plot and plan, Lust, avarice, envy -- liberated man, All difference with his fellow-mortal closed, Shall be left standing face to face with God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOON ON FORRESTER'S POND by HAYDEN CARRUTH CURTAIN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MAGDALEN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON HOUSE WITH THE MARBLE STEPS by AMY LOWELL SONG BY THE WINDOW BEFORE BED by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |