Loitering with a vacant eye Along the Grecian gallery, And brooding on my heavy ill, I met a statue standing still. Still in marble stone stood he, And steadfastly he looked at me. 'Well met,' I thought the look would say 'We both were fashioned far away; We neither knew, when we were young, These Londoners we live among.' Still he stood and eyed me hard, An earnest and a grave regard: 'What, lad, drooping with your lot? I too would be where I am not. I too survey that endless line Of men whose thoughts are not as mine. Years, ere you stood up from rest, . On my neck the collar prest; Years, when you lay down your ill, I shall stand and bear it still. Courage, lad, 'tis not for long: Stand, quit you like stone, be strong.' So I thought his look would say; And light on me my trouble lay, And I stept out in flesh and bone Manful like the man of stone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CONQUEROR'S GRAVE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE FACTORY; 'TIS AN ACCURSED THING! by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON WITCH-WIFE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE HAYSTACK IN THE FLOODS by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) THE SONG OF WILLI by MATHILDE BLIND ASSASSINS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE ROBBER by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD AN EPITAPH ON MR.WM. HOPTON by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) TO BETTINE; THE CHILD-FRIEND OF GOETHE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |