NOTWITHSTANDING by JAMES BUCKHAM

Brief are the days and few
When the sky is utter blue,
And the wind goes over the grass
Like the laugh of a Maying lass;
But our God is good to all,
And some perfect days befall,
Notwithstanding.

Love is a strange sweet thing,
Like the plume of an angel's wing,
Too white and good and fair
To be long in this soiling air;
But who has not known the bliss,
Sometimes and somewhere, of a kiss,
Notwithstanding.

We do what we can and trust,
But our doing turns to dust;
And the night flows over the day
And washes its deeds away:
But whatso we truly try
The world will not let it die,
Notwithstanding.

Then courage my brothers brave,
And the precious remnant save!
Our hopes are like lamps afire,
Set high, to lead us higher:
No man has yet lived his dream,
But we climb by things that seem,
Notwithstanding.

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

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