HERE he, your law, vociferous wits, Strong son of the sounding anvil, sits; Black and sharp his eyebrow edge, His hand smites heavily as his sledge -- At will he kindles bright discourse, Or blows it out, with blustrous force; The fiery talk, with dominant clamour, Moulds as hot metal with his hammer. Yet this swart sinewy boisterer, His wife and babe sit smiling near, All fairness with all feebleness in her arms, Safe in their innocence and in their charms. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DRUMS AND BRASS by DONALD (GRADY) DAVIDSON TO WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON VENUS IN A GARDEN by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 30 by CLARENCE MAJOR WAITER IN A CALIFORNIA VIETNAMESE RESTURANT by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: GREGORY WENNER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS NEBUCHADNEZZAR: OR EATING GRASS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |