What worth hath man? Upon some craggy hill Above tumultuous ocean and the din Of hoarse contention, I will sit and spin The pleasant wisdom of a world of ill. I will not frown and say: Thou shalt not kill! But ponder the inevitable sin, Until the golden shadows, closing in, Dissolve the vision and the murmur still. Death is the certain goal we all shall win, And death hath blessings that the bosom fill Better than fickle love and anxious pelf: Death takes from man the thought that he hath bee And melts the phantoms that allure the will Till, seeing nothing, he beholds himself. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ESTHER; A YOUNG MAN'S TRAGEDY: 51 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT CATHOLIC HYMN by EDGAR ALLAN POE SONNET: 25 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE I GREET THEE by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS MY FORE-ELDERS by WILLIAM BARNES THE SCHOOLROOM OF POETS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET PRESENTIMENT by CHARLOTTE BRONTE |