Poetry Archives

Many have Earth’s lovers been,
Tried in seas and wars, I ween;
Yet the mightiest have I seen:
  Yea, the best saw I.
One that in a field alone
Stood up stiller than a stone
Lest a moth should fly.

Birds had nested in his hair,
On his shoon were mosses rare.
Insect empires flourished there,
  Worms in ancient wars;
But his eyes burn like a glass,
Hearing a great sea of grass
  Roar towards the stars.

From, them to the human tree
Rose a cry continually,
‘Thou art still, our Father, we
  Fain would have thee nod.
Make the skies as blood below thee,
Though thou slay us, we shall know thee.
  Answer us, O God!

‘Show thine ancient flame and thunder,
Split the stillness once asunder,
Lest we whisper, lest we wonder
  Art thou there at all?’
But I saw him there alone,
Standing stiller than a stone
  Lest a moth should fall.