Measure me by my love and let me go Sweet spirit of this gully; if you heard My utterance, baying loud or murmuring low. Measure me by my love, not by my word. And let your damply pungent, loaded air Be all the breath of all my breathing day And let your presence stand for all things fair And heartening and never far away. Then I'll be you, Australia, like a priest Who dreads that he is faltering in faith. I have a fear 'tis I that love you least Of all your children laughing at the feast -- A fear that's bitterer than utter death. The nations count the granaries and gold, They'll praise the daring justice of your rule; They'll try your power, but not till you are old Will men remember you were beautiful. When love has done with loving you'll command The remnants of devotion, when the beat Of Time dissolves the nations you will stand -- A pile of broken terrors at your feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER THICKET by SHARON OLDS THE LEAVES OF THE TREE HIDE THE SUN by DAVID IGNATOW TO MY CLASS: ON CERTAIN FRUITS AND FLOWERS SENT ... SICKNESS by SIDNEY LANIER LINES ON CARMEN SYLVA by EMMA LAZARUS IF HE SHOULD COME by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: RICHARD BONE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |