Classic and Contemporary Poetry
OUT OF ANY DEARTH, by LOUIS GINSBERG First Line: Transmuting rocks to flowers Last Line: I will sieve my songs. Subject(s): Earth; Flowers; Stones; World; Granite; Rocks | ||||||||
Transmuting rocks to flowers, Butterflies through the hours, On sunlight, as they cling, Are busy banqueting. Brambles find no dearth In filching fire from earth. Lilies in the mire Purloin colored fire, Looting marshes, whence They lift magnificence. From clay a rose-bush culls Crimson parables . . . So, with that stratagem Used by any stem In salvaging treasure, which It dredges from a ditch; Out of any dearth Of the bitter earth, Out of stones and wrongs, I will sieve my songs. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STONE'S SECRET by MARGARET AVISON CONTRA MORTEM: THE STONE by HAYDEN CARRUTH NAMING FOR LOVE by HAYDEN CARRUTH OF THE STONES OF THE PLACE by ROBERT FROST THE EYE IN THE ROCK by JOHN HAINES THE HEAD ON THE TABLE by JOHN HAINES A CITY STREET IN SUMMER by LOUIS GINSBERG |
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