Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WHAT THEN OF US, WE HUMBLE FIDDLING FOLK, by CLEMENT WOOD



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

WHAT THEN OF US, WE HUMBLE FIDDLING FOLK, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: What then of us, we humble fiddling folk
Last Line: Till the last mind forget its final dreaming.
Subject(s): Beauty; Fiddles; Music & Musicians; Musical Instruments


What then of us, we humble fiddling folk,
Who do not plough the field, nor weld the tool?
Whose beauty-chastened singing never spoke
Doom for the stumbling, over-burdened fool?
We choose the only path that we can see,
Heedless of dark and cold, hunger and thirst,
Travailing in our wrenching misery:
Beauty must flower, though the soil be curst.
And as we dull, the marble wakes to form,
The canvas glows, the air is singing wonder;
And beauty, borne on wings of terrible storm,
Tramples the souls of faithless mortals under,
To shine serene with a still deathless gleaming
Till the last mind forget its final dreaming.





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