Your names are like decapitated giants bleeding black oblivion; You are the frail voices. The indomitable rhythm of beauty writhes under the claws of your pens; Your eyes are twin candles burning flames of yearning desire toward the high, sacred altar of poesy. All that you sought to attain has eluded you; You have tried, and your day is passing. Yet grieve not; Much that charms is small and fleeting To the greatness of eternity. The earth is a tiny shadow tottering on the edge of death; The moon is a throb of splendor in the heart of night; And the stars are ephemera in the long gaze of God. So grieve not That your poems are the cool, fresh grass of a short summer; The flowers are few. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AMORETTI: 64 by EDMUND SPENSER FATA MORGANA by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 65. AL-WAJID by EDWIN ARNOLD AUTUMN; WRITTEN IN THE GROUNDS OF MARTIN COLE, ESQ. by BERNARD BARTON A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT LOVE'S WORD by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |