Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG OF THE AXE, by ISABELLA VALANCY CRAWFORD



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONG OF THE AXE, by                    
First Line: High grew the snow beneath the low-hung sky
Last Line: "we build up nations -- this my axe and I!"
Variant Title(s): The Axe
Subject(s): Axes; Hatchets


High grew the snow beneath the low-hung sky,
And all was silent in the wilderness;
In trance of stillness Nature heard her God
Rebuilding her spent fires, and veiled her face
While the Great Worker brooded o'er His work.
"Bite deep and wide, O Axe, the tree!
What doth thy bold voice promise me?"
"I promise thee all joyous things
That furnish forth the lives of kings!
"For every silver ringing blow,
Cities and palaces shall grow!"
"Bite deep and wide, O Axe, the tree!
Tell wider prophecies to me."
"When rust hath gnawed me deep and red,
A nation strong shall lift his head.
"His crown the very Heavens shall smite,
AEons shall build him in his might!"
"Bite deep and wide, O Axe, the tree;
Bright Seer, help on thy prophecy!"
Max smote the snow-weighed tree, and lightly laughed.
"See, friend," he cried to one that looked and smiled,
My axe and I -- we do immortal tasks--
We build up nations -- this my axe and I!"




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