This dust was lilies long ago, And precious living things; It knew the shapes of loveliness, It rose on beating wings. Daughters of heaven, sons of earth, Mix in it far and near, - What wonder poets find the earth A magic thing and dear, And braid their words from very earth, And fear not moth nor rust, And place new garlands one by one Upon the brow of dust. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THERE WILL BE STARS by SARA TEASDALE THE SECOND COVENANT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET AVELINGLAS by GORDON BOTTOMLEY THE FIGHTING WORD by BERTON BRALEY EVENSONG by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN YOUTH by SAMUEL VALENTINE COLE |