The Snow Man.
Poor shape grotesque that careless hands have wrought! Frail wistful thing, left gaping at the sun With empty grin, 'tis well no blood shall run Within thy frozen veins, no kindling thought Light up those eyeless sockets wherein naught But hate could dwell if once they flashed the fire Of being, or the doom-gift of Desire Should curse thy life, unbidden and unsought. Poor snow man with thy tattered hat awry, And broomstick musket toppling from thy hands, 'Tis well thou hast no language to decry Thy poor creator or his vain commands; No tear to shed that thou so soon must die, No voice to lift in prayer where no god understands!
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Poor shape grotesque that careless hands have wrought!..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Charles Hamilton Musgrove delivers a powerful performance in "The Snow Man."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...