Heaviness may endure for a night, but Joy cometh in the morning. No thing is great on this side of the grave, Nor any thing of any stable worth: Whatso is born from earth returns to earth: No thing we grasp proves half the thing we crave: The tidal wave shrinks to the ebbing wave: Laughter is folly, madness lurks in mirth: Mankind sets off a-dying from the birth: Life is a losing game, with what to save? Thus I sat mourning like a mournful owl, And like a doleful dragon made ado, Companion of all monsters of the dark: When lo the light cast off its nightly cowl, And up to heaven flashed a carolling lark, And all creation sang its hymn anew. While all creation sang its hymn anew What could I do but sing a stave in tune? Spectral on high hung pale the vanishing moon Where a last gleam of stars hung paling too. Lark's lay -- a cockcrow -- with a scattered few Soft early chirpings -- with a tender croon Of doves -- a hundred thousand calls, and soon A hundred thousand answers sweet and true. These set me singing too at unawares: One note for all delights and charities, One note for hope reviving with the light, One note for every lovely thing that is; Till while I sang my heart shook off its cares And revelled in the land of no more night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY by ROBERT FROST MY MARYLAND by JAMES RYDER RANDALL ON THE COLLAR OF MRS. DINGLEY'S LAP-DOG by JONATHAN SWIFT THE STORM by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE EMERGENCY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |