Between old Pan and Pandemonium Our lives hold all too little interlude. Our day's bassoon, our blood's euphonium, The old gods set the tone in the old, old feud. Thin, flapping tatters on a line to dry Between the walls of two grim tenements With far away a handkerchief of sky ... Behold our triumphs, failures, ravishments! Brief, casual notes dictated but unread, Soon burdening the air less than a flower, Our lives are published but unedited, Dull testimonials to an ancient power. We would change dreams to truth—gray sleep betrays us; End war—our arms are held by greed and hate; And build a new Atlantis—change dismays us. We would reshape our lives—it is too late. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ULTIMA VERITAS by WASHINGTON GLADDEN MIDNIGHT ON THE GREAT WESTERN by THOMAS HARDY DANNY DEEVER by RUDYARD KIPLING MAN FRAIL AND GOD ETERNAL by ISAAC WATTS MOON-BRIGHT DREAMS by WILLIAM EDWARD ADAMS ENIGMA. TO THE LADIES by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |