WISE-UNTO-HELL Ecclesiast, Who siev'dst life to the gritted last! This thy sting, thy darkness, Mage -- Cloud upon sun, upon youth age? Now is come a darker thing, And is come a colder sting, Unto us, who find the womb Opes on the courtyard of the tomb. Now in this fuliginous City of flesh our sires for us Darkly built, the sun at prime Is hidden, and betwixt the time Of day and night is variance none, Who know not altern moon and sun; Whose deposed heaven through dungeon-bars Looks down blinded of its stars. Yea, in the days of youth, God wot, Now we say: They please me not. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER DIVORCE; FOR NAHID SARMAD by KAREN SWENSON JOHANNA PEDERSEN by KAREN SWENSON GULF-WEED by CORNELIUS GEORGE FENNER CABOOSE THOUGHTS by CARL SANDBURG LAMENT OF THE IRISH EMIGRANT by HELEN SELINA SHERIDAN FRATERNITY by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH |