How much of Godhood did it take -- What purging epochs had to pass, Ere I was fit for leaf and lake And worthy of the patient grass? What mighty travails must have been, What ages must have moulded me, Ere I was raised and made akin To dawn, the daisy and the sea. In what great struggles was I felled, In what old lives I labored long, Ere I was given a world that held A meadow, butterflies and Song? But oh, what cleansings and what fears, What countless raisings from the dead, Ere I could see Her, touched with tears, Pillow the little weary head. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RHODORA: ON BEING ASKED, WHENCE IS THE FLOWER? by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE STARLIGHT NIGHT by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS HUDSON RIVER ANTHOLOGY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS AMBITION AND CONTENT; A FABLE by MARK AKENSIDE LINES TO MR. WYNCH ON HIS FORTH-FIFTH BIRTHDAY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE PIONEER'S FIELD by RICHARD BECK BEYOND THE BAR by BEATRICE B. BEEBE |