Frail children of sorrow, dethroned by a hue, The shadows are flecked by the rose sifting through, The world has its motion, all things pass away, No night is omnipotent, there must be day. The oak tarries long in the depth of the seed, But swift is the season of nettle and weed, Abide yet awhile in the mellowing shade, And rise with the hour for which you were made. The cycle of seasons, the tidals of man Revolve in the orb of an infinite plan, We move to the rhythm of ages long done, And each has his hour—to dwell in the sun! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: CHARLES WARREN, THE SHERIFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE YOUTH OF NATURE: WORDSWORTH'S COUNTRY by MATTHEW ARNOLD WE WEAR THE MASK by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ECHOES: 6 by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY THE OLD MAN DREAMS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES |