Now that the tower is standing, Stone upon stone in flower, What of its soul -- the master, The maker of the tower? Walking in mist of evening Humbly amid the crowd Beside the wide way's traffic, Thoughtful perhaps, and bowed, And pondering some failure That shook his earlier days, What exaltation waits him, When upward he shall gaze And see in sudden outline, Mysterious and high, Beauty, his own creation, Imposed against the sky! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOLES BORED IN A WORKBAG BY THE SCISSORS by MARIANNE MOORE FAIRYLAND (1) by EDGAR ALLAN POE SONG (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI MONICA'S LAST PRAYER by MATTHEW ARNOLD SS. SIMON & JUDE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE SIDEWALKS OF NEW YORK by JAMES W. BLAKE SPARROWS SELF-DOMESTICATED IN TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE by VINCENT BOURNE |