poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

Upon a bank I sat, a child made seer
Of one small primrose flowering in my mind.
Better than wealth it is, I said, to find
One small page of Truth's manuscript made clear.
I looked at Christ transfigured without fear--
The light was very beautiful and kind,
And where the Holy Ghost in flame had signed
I read it through the lenses of a tear.
And then my sight grew dim, I could not see
The primrose that had lighted me to Heaven,
And there was but the shadow of a tree
Ghostly among the stars.  The years that pass
Like tired soldiers nevermore have given
Moments to see wonders in the grass.


Submitted by Andrew Mayers

Added: 21 Jul 2002 | Last Read: 5 Sep 2008 10:49 AM | Viewed: 2110 times

PoetryNotes™ Analysis

A custom PoetryNotes™ eBook may be ordered for this poem. Get help with your homework - delivered in 5-6 days.

For more information...