Let be, my soul, fold your rebellious pinions, There is no way out of the web of things, It is a snare that never will be broken, And if you struggle you will break your wings. Be still a while, content to brood on beauty; Caught in the trap of space that has no end, See how the stars, august in their submission, Take their Great Captor for their changeless friend. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HEMP (A VIRGINIA LEGEND) by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE CHANGED WOMAN by LOUISE BOGAN THE BLACK MAMMY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TO A MAN WORKING HIS WAY THROUGH THE CROWD by MARIANNE MOORE |