'Bread!' the starver faintly sigheth; 'I have none!' the robb'd replieth; Doall loseth, Starveall winneth; Cheatall laugheth, while he sinneth; Work grim-gaspeth o'er spare diet; And the Million-Tongued is quiet. When the forest breatheth deeply, Darked sun down shining steeply; When the noon-night scarcely shifteth; And the windy cloud uplifteth Not a leaf the mute heav'ns under; Then, the thoughtful look for thunder! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUTH AND AGE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE WERE I BUT HIS OWN WIFE by ELLEN MARY PATRICK DOWNING DEAD MAN'S DUMP by ISAAC ROSENBERG LONDON WIND by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA FOAM STRAY by JOSEPH AUSLANDER THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY by BERNARD OF CLUNY THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE SUMMONER'S PROLOGUE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER PINDARIC ODE: TO THE UNVERSITY LIBRARY AT OXFORD by ABRAHAM COWLEY |