I HEARD them in their sadness say, "The earth rebukes the thought of God; We are but embers wrapped in clay A little nobler than the sod." But I have touched the lips of clay, Mother, thy rudest sod to me Is thrilled with fire of hidden day, And haunted by all mystery. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ALTAR by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE WILD FLOWER'S SONG by WILLIAM BLAKE TO NATURE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE CHURCH FLOORE by GEORGE HERBERT APOLOGIA PRO POEMATE MEO by WILFRED OWEN THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 72. THE CHOICE (2) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI IN SCHOOL-DAYS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |