by AE
Cloistered amid these austere rocks,
A brooding seer, I watched an hour,
Close to the earth, lost to all else,
The marvel of a tiny flower.

To build its palace walls of jade
What myriads toiled in dark and cold:
And what gay traders from the sun
Brought down its sapphire and its gold!

Oh, palace of the universe!
Oh, changing halls of day and night!
Does the high Builder dream in thee
With more of wonder and delight?
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.