 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
A PARABLE.
There was a certain man who thought to raise
A temple reaching well-nigh to the skies;
And well, indeed, his plans he did devise,
And solidly and firmly wrought the base,
And worked with a brave heart for many days.
And when the walls to a great height did rise,
Fair things he put therein, and with proud eyes
Watched men in wonder on the structure gaze.
A temple reaching well-nigh to the skies;
And well, indeed, his plans he did devise,
And solidly and firmly wrought the base,
And worked with a brave heart for many days.
And when the walls to a great height did rise,
Fair things he put therein, and with proud eyes
Watched men in wonder on the structure gaze.
“Surely the gods,” he said, “my labors bless.”
And higher still, and higher did he build;
The temple with pure images he filled,—
When, lo! it reeled; and, crushed beneath the press
Of tottering walls and towers, he buried fell!
Yet, do I think he planned, and builded well.
And higher still, and higher did he build;
The temple with pure images he filled,—
When, lo! it reeled; and, crushed beneath the press
Of tottering walls and towers, he buried fell!
Yet, do I think he planned, and builded well.
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |