WHO deems the soul to endless death is thrall, That no life breathes beyond that moment dire, When every sense @3seems@1 lost as outblown fire; -- Must walk, clothed round with darkness like a pall, Or on false gods of sensual rapture call; @3Pluck the rich rose-leaves! lift the wine cup higher! Wed delicate Instinct to malign Desire,@1 (@3Like some Greek girl clasped by a barbarous Gaul!@1) Thus Omar preached, thus practised, centuries since; Wine, beauty, idlesse, orgies crowned by lust; All these he chanted in voluptuous song; Yet who shall vow, deep Thinker! poet Prince! Thy rhythmic creed the unnatural voice of wrong, @3If man, dust-born, shall still return to dust?@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHARLES AUGUSTUS FORTESCUE by HILAIRE BELLOC THE FAIRIES by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM ELEGY ON MR. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE by WILLIAM BASSE THE PASSERS BY by AL-RADI BILLAH THE HAPPY LOVER by PHILIP AYRES WEDNESDAY IN Y' HOLY WEEK by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |