Where the rainbows rise through sunset rains By shores forlorn of isles forgot, A solitary Voice complains "The world is here, the world is not." The Voice the Wind is, or the sea, Or the Spirit of the sundown West: Or is it but a breath set free From off the Islands of the Blest? It may be: but I turn my face To that which still I hold so dear: And lo, the voices of the days— "The World is not, the World is here." 'Tis the same end whichever way, And either way is soon forgot: "The World is all in all To-day, To-morrow all the World is not." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: STATE'S ATTORNEY FALLAS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: MRS. MURRAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS LINCOLN by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY A CANADIAN BOAT SONG; WRITTEN ON THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE by THOMAS MOORE WREATHE THE BOWL by THOMAS MOORE ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 84 by PHILIP SIDNEY |