I folded trees as shepherds fold their flocks -- Watching them cut a pathway to the stars, As a young lamb will spurn the pasture bars To dare the peril of emancipate rocks. I strode with shrinking moons the purple hills, Till amber morning hung upon my lips; And handled with orchestral finger tips The miracle of fresh-blown daffodils. Later, the stooping shoulders of a man Building a highway, blotted out the sun; And uncreative earth since time began Fluttered in shade, subordinate and dun. I am at peace to-day with dominant hands Weaving a seamless robe from broken strands. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LET ME NOT HATE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ON A YOUNG LADY'S SIXTH ANNIVERSARY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: HIAWATHA'S WOOING by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW BEN JONSON ENTERTAINS A MAN FROM STRATFORD by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |