(@3For Sara Teasdale@1) SING of the rose or of the mire; sing strife Or rising moons; the silence or the throng... Poet, it matters not, if Life Is in the song. If Life rekindles it, and if the rhymes Bear Beauty as their eloquent refrain, Though it were sung a thousand times, Sing it again! Thrill us with song—let others preach or rage; Make us so thirst for Beauty that we cease These struggles, and this strident age Grows sweet with peace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MODERN LOVE: 30 by GEORGE MEREDITH THE BURNING BABE by ROBERT SOUTHWELL NORTHERN FARMER, OLD STYLE by ALFRED TENNYSON TO MY SISTER by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH WOODBINES IN OCTOBER by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES |