Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour, And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping, Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary, Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move, And half-men, and their dirty songs and dreary, And all the little emptiness of love! Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release there, Where there's no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending, Naught broken save this body, lost but breath; Nothing to shake the laughing heart's long peace there But only agony, and that has ending; And the worst friend and enemy is but Death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: DR. TRACE TO THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SONG FOR JULY 12TH, 1843 by JOHN DE JEAN FRAZER DESCRIPTION OF SPRING by HENRY HOWARD EULALIE; A SONG by EDGAR ALLAN POE SONGS OF TRAVEL: 45. TO S.R. CROCKETT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON WHIM ALLEY by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. |