AFTER a long day of work in my hot-houses Sleep was sweet, but if you sleep on your left side Your dreams may be abruptly ended. I was among my flowers where some one Seemed to be raising them on trial, As if after-while to be transplanted To a larger garden of freer air. And I was disembodied vision Amid a light, as it were the sun Had floated in and touched the roof of glass Like a toy balloon and softly bursted, And etherealized in golden air. And all was silence, except the splendor Was immanent with thought as clear As a speaking voice, and I, as thought, Could hear a Presence think as he walked Between the boxes pinching off leaves, Looking for bugs and noting values, With an eye that saw it all: -- "Homer, oh yes! Pericles, good. Caesar Borgia, what shall be done with it? Dante, too much manure, perhaps. Napoleon, leave him awhile as yet. Shelley, more soil. Shakespeare, needs spraying --" Clouds, eh! -- | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HERETIC: 2. IRONY by LOUIS UNTERMEYER PRIMROSE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE MYSTERIOUS CAT by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY JONAH'S SONG, FR. MOBY DICK by HERMAN MELVILLE ROBIN REDBREAST by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM ARTHUR AND ALBINA by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS THE BURDEN OF A SIGH by LEVI BISHOP |