This was the heavenly hiding place Wherein the spirit laughed a day, All its proud ivories and fires Shrunk to a shovelful of clay. It must have love, this silent earth, To leap up at the King’s desire, Moving in such a noble dance Of wreathed ivory and fire. It will not stir for me at all, Nor answer me with voice nor gleam Adieu, sweet-memoried dust, I go After the Master for the dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 4. THE MARKET-GIRL by THOMAS HARDY TO A LILY by JAMES MATHEWES LEGARE SA-CA-GA-WE-A; THE INDIAN GIRL WHO GUIDED LEWIS AND CLARK by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR SORCERY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH COMPANIONSHIP by MABEL WARREN ARNOLD THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 4 by THOMAS CAMPION LINES FROM A NOTEBOOK - FEBRUARY 1807 (2) by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |