Down the blue night the unending columns press In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow, Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow Up to the white moon's hidden loveliness. Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless, And turn with profound gesture vague and slow, As who would pray good for the world, but know Their benediction empty as they bless. They say that the Dead die not, but remain Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth. I think they ride the calm mid-heaven, as these, In wise majestic melancholy train, And watch the moon, and the still-raging seas, And men, coming and going on the earth. The Pacific, October 1913 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WRITTEN IN KEATS' 'ENDYMION' by THOMAS HOOD THE EAGLE THAT IS FORGOTTEN by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY THE GOAT PATHS by JAMES STEPHENS THE OLD BUFFALO TRAIL by ISABEL ANDERSON THE STALLION OF NIGHT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET SONNET: LOVE'S ETHIC by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON A SKIER by ARTHUR STANLEY BOURINOT MAXIMS FOR THE OLD HOUSE: THE CHAMBER by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |