Children Of Light
Our fathers wrung their bread from stocks and stones And fenced their gardens with the Redmen's bones; Embarking from the Nether Land of Holland, Pilgrims unhouseled by Geneva's night, They planted here the Serpent's seeds of light; And here the pivoting searchlights probe to shock The riotous glass houses built on rock, And candles gutter by an empty altar, And light is where the landless blood of Cain Is burning, burning the unburied grain.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Our fathers wrung their bread from stocks and stones..."
Robert Lowell's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Children Of Light"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...