WHY each is striving, from of old, To love more deeply than he can? Still would be true, yet still grows cold? --Ask of the Powers that sport with man! They yok'd in him, for endless strife, A heart of ice, a soul of fire; And hurl'd him on the Field of Life, An aimless unallay'd Desire. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LEAVES OF THE TREE HIDE THE SUN by DAVID IGNATOW POSTHUMOUS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ON VIOLET'S WAFERS, SENT ME WHEN I WAS ILL by SIDNEY LANIER SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JONAS KEENE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS JOHN BROWN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |