KNOCK! Knock! Bide not there baffled with spent hand. Lo, here the threshold of thy dreamed-of goal— Here, here, at last, fulfilment for thy soul. Oh, knock! Oh, knock! Take not thy craven stand, Stilly consenting, with Fate's beggared band, By fear for ever mulcted of thy dole. Grasp for thy drop from Life's abundant bowl— Thy meted morsel of the Promised Land! The touch withheld, how shall the latch unlock? What hostel proffers to unchallenging guest Friendship's full feast—Wisdom's consummate wine? Fool! For a lifted finger all were thine— All, all thy soul could compass at its best. Knock, that the door may open! Knock, oh, knock! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...QUESTION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SUGGESTED BY THE COVER OF A VOLUME OF KEATS'S POEMS by AMY LOWELL DOMESDAY BOOK: JANE FISHER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 11 by EZRA POUND |