This is man's noblest edifice. All else Crumbles and rots. His loftiest stone is thrust Into the patient and ironic dust. His iron ships, his scornful citadels Are scattered by a whiff of fiery shells That mingle with them in a pool of rust. But words, mere words, invulnerable, august, Become his statesmen and his sentinels. He lets them do his fighting; sits and calls On them to keep the world from going free. They build him stubborn forts where he can be Safe from his manhood, its demands and brawls; While Life, foiled by this soft security, Beats futile hands on vague, invisible walls. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BIRDS DO THUS by ROBERT FROST ABOVE AND WITHIN by DAVID IGNATOW THE SEASONS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON MOTHER JUNKIE by CLARENCE MAJOR THE BURIAL OF BOSTON CORBETT (ONE WARDEN TO ANOTHER) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER by JOHN CROWE RANSOM |