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More poems by Richard WilburRichard Wilbur | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Richard WilburBooks by Richard Wilbur

Praise In Summer

Richard Wilbur

Obscurely yet most surely called to praise,
As sometimes summer calls us all, I said
The hills are heavens full of branching ways
Where star-nosed moles fly overhead the dead;
I said the trees are mines in air, I said
See how the sparrow burrows in the sky!
And then I wondered why this mad instead
Perverts our praise to uncreation, why
Such savour's in this wrenching things awry.
Does sense so stale that it must needs derange
The world to know it?  To a praiseful eye
Should it not be enough of fresh and strange
That trees grow green, and moles can course
     in clay,
And sparrows sweep the ceiling of our day?


Submitted by Elizabeth Curry

Added: 20 May 2003 | Last Read: 12 Dec 2018 3:49 AM | Viewed: 14481 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/9175/ | Viewed on 12 December 2018.
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