Say not, the struggle nought availeth, The labor and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth, And as things have been they remain. If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers, And, but for you, possess the field. For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Came, silent, flooding in, the main. And not by eastern windows only, When daylight comes, comes in the light; In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly, But westward, look, the land is bright. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HUMBLE-BEE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON MY LOVE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS A CITY PIPER by MORRIS ABEL BEER PSALME 137 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE WINTER NIGHTS; A BACKWARD LOOK by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |