THERE was a good and reverend man Whose day of life, serene and bright, Was wearing hard upon the gloom Beyond which we can see no light. And as his vision back to morn, And forward to the evening sped, He bowed himself upon his staff, And with his heart communing, said: From mystery on to mystery My way has been; yet as I near The eternal shore, against the sky These crags of truth stand sharp and clear. Where'er its hidden fountain be, Time is a many-colored jet Of good and evil, light and shade, And we evoke the things we get. The hues that our to-morrows wear Are by our yesterdays forecast; Our future takes into itself The true impression of our past. The attrition of conflicting thoughts To clear conclusions, wears the groove; The love that seems to die, dies not, But is absorbed in larger love. We cannot cramp ourselves unharmed, In bonds of iron, nor of creeds; The rights that rightfully belong To man, are measured by his needs. The daisy is entitled to The nurture of the dew and light; The green house of the grasshopper In his by Nature's sacred right. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JEPHTHA'S DAUGHTER by GEORGE GORDON BYRON STAR-TALK by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES KATIE LEE AND WILLIE GREY by JOSIE R. HUNT SONNET: DANTE (1) by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI FRATER AVE ATQUE VALE by ALFRED TENNYSON DAY AND NIGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |