Before me lies a mass of shapeless days, Unseparated atoms, and I must Sort them apart and live them. Sifted dust Covers the formless heap. Reprieves, delays, There are none, ever. As a monk who prays The sliding beads asunder, so I thrust Each tasteless particle aside, and just Begin again the task which never stays. And I have known a glory of great suns, When days flashed by, pulsing with joy and fire! Drunk bubbled wine in goblets of desire, And felt the whipped blood laughing as it runs! Spilt is that liquor, my too hasty hand Threw down the cup, and did not understand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ILIAD: ACHILLES OVER THE TRENCH by HOMER THE MALDIVE SHARK by HERMAN MELVILLE IDYLLS OF THE KING: GARETH AND LYNETTE by ALFRED TENNYSON KEEPING ENDLESS HOLIDAY by TITUS PETRONIUS NIGER THE KNIGHTS: THE POET AND HIS RIVALS by ARISTOPHANES SONG FOR DECORATION DAY by HELEN C. BACON SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 28. WATERLOO by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |