'O DREARY life,' we cry, 'O dreary life!' And still the generations of the birds Sing through our sighing, and the flocks and herds Serenely live while we are keeping strife With Heaven's true purpose in us, as a knife Against which we may struggle! Ocean girds Unslackened the dry land, savannah-swards Unweary sweep, hills watch unworn, and rife Meek leaves drop yearly from the forest-trees To show, above, the unwasted stars that pass In their old glory: O thou God of old, Grant me some smaller grace than comes to these! -- But so much patience as a blade of grass Grows by, contented through the heat and cold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A TRAGIC STORY by ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO THE BOSTON EVENING TRANSCRIPT by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT PAST AND PRESENT by THOMAS HOOD KEENAN'S CHARGE by GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP THE WOODSPURGE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE BALLAD OF CHICKAMAUGA [SEPTEMBER 19-20, 1863] by JAMES MAURICE THOMPSON |