THE day is dark and the night To him that would search their heart; No lips of cloud that will part Nor morning song in the light: Only, gazing alone, To him wild shadows are shown, Deep under deep unknown And height above unknown height. Still we say as we go,-- "Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day." The Past is over and fled; Named new, we name it the old; Thereof some tale hath been told, But no word comes from the dead; Whether at all they be, Or whether as bond or free, Or whether they too were we, Or by what spell they have sped. Still we say as we go,-- "Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day." What of the heart of hate That beats in thy breast, O Time?-- Red strife from the furthest prime, And anguish of fierce debate; War that shatters her slain, And peace that grinds them as grain, And eyes fixed ever in vain On the pitiless eyes of Fate. Still we say as we go,-- "Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day." What of the heart of love That bleeds in thy breast, O Man?-- Thy kisses snatched 'neath the ban Of fangs that mock them above; Thy bells prolonged unto knells, Thy hope that a breath dispels, Thy bitter forlorn farewells And the empty echoes thereof? Still we say as we go,-- "Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day." The sky leans dumb on the sea, Aweary with all its wings; And oh! the song the sea sings Is dark everlastingly. Our past is clean forgot, Our present is and is not, Our future's a sealed seedplot, And what betwixt them are we?-- We who say as we go,-- "Strange to think by the way, Whatever there is to know, That shall we know one day." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN MALINDY SINGS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ULTIMA THULE: THE CHAMBER OVER THE GATE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW WHAT THE ENGINE SAYS by ALEXANDER ANDERSON A CHARACTER OF JOHN MORT by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE BOOK OF LOS by WILLIAM BLAKE 11TH R.S.R. by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |