Dullard and sot crammed full Of the meat of the flesh, Gross bulk ensnared and held In the sense's mesh; Fat chops repletely fed On the offal heap. Munching a-hungered again In the garbage sweep; Epicure, bellied big, Homed in the sty; Snout stale with its ancient swill, Bleared, piggish eye;— Push and grunt at the trough In Circe's pen, Glut and roll and wallow And glut again! The poet's scorn upon you Brutes of the sty; Slaves of the trough and the swill, Wallow and die! Away! where nature is clean, And breath of the breeze Draws deep with light in the east And morn in the trees! Flashes the gossamer thread Pearled with the dawn; Silver soft shafts of Apollo Gleam on the lawn. Close night's golden eyes, Pale wanes the moon; Twinkle the feet of the day In her white shoon. Wakens a tumult of song In forest green glades; Silent off steals the dark Through soft melting shades. Faint comes a wind soughing Stirring the leaves; Chequered shadow and sunshine On the sward weaves. Soul-stirring breath of the heaven, Rich wind of the earth, Waking the heart to thy gladness And nature to mirth; These be the poet's dear portion Afar from the den, Where Circe sits watching her sty And its swine, that are men. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ADOLF EICHMANN by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE SITTING by CECIL DAY LEWIS STREET-CRIES: 7. A SONG OF LOVE by SIDNEY LANIER THE CRESCENT MOON by AMY LOWELL THE ROOM OF MIRRORS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |