This day, so crowned above all other days, Becomes a challenge to the calendar, A threat to Time and his destructive ways: For we have taken a thing he can not mar With change or death, nor steal from us again. Deathless by this one perfect hour we are: This little hour, beyond both joy and pain, Has paid the subtle fee that bribes the Fates. It does not matter now with what disdain The snow of centuries blankets faded dates Of kings and nations; nor for us how deep And permanent the insensate Naught awaits: Have we not this one timeless hour to keep Our scorn of death immortal when we sleep? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DEATH OF A METAPHYSICIAN by GEORGE SANTAYANA SIBLINGS OF A GRAYER SKY by NAVEED ALAM POPULARITY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SALOME by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE BALLAD OF THE SABRE CROSS AND 7 by IRVING BACHELLER NURSERY REMINISCENCES by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM SONNET: HER WORST AND BEST by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |