Fierce wrath of Solomon, Where sleepest thou? O see, The fabric which thou won Earth and ocean to give thee -- O look at the red skies. Or hath the sun plunged down? What is this molten gold -- These thundering fires blown Through heaven, where the smoke rolled Again the great king dies. His dreams go out in smoke. His days he let not pass And sculptured here are broke, Are charred as the burnt grass, Gone as his mouth's last sighs. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRANSLUCENT FINGERS by MALCOLM COWLEY THE BUTCHER SHOP by DAVID IGNATOW VENUS IN A GARDEN by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON FRANCIS II, KING OF NAPLES; SONNET by AMY LOWELL ITALIAN PICTURES: JULY IN VALLOMBROSA by MINA LOY THE TOWER OF SKULLS by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE BOTTLES AND THE WINE by GEORGE SANTAYANA HUFFMAN'S PHOTOGRAPH OF THE GRAVES OF THE UNKNOWN AT LITTLE BIGHORN by KAREN SWENSON |