Grains Of Sand
Reading edition
Fine gleanings of the ledges, golden grains That ponderous glaciers reaped long, long ago From battlemented crags and furrowed plains Grinding and crushing with resistless flow, To mingle with the melting seas, and heap Their flinty harvestings in windrows; strew The granite kernels for the thunderous deep To winnow endlessly and grind anew. Where are those lordly peaks that once defied The fury of the gales, nor deigned to bow To heaven’s own lightning? How the scornful tide Washes about and putters with them now; Yes, even my weak fingers have the power To fashion as I will or idly thrust Into a glass to mark the fleeting hour, These grains of sand - some crumbled mountain’s dust