The rose has crumbled now to fragrant dust, The pansy's darkness lies on darkness, too. Because their lovely lives are gone they must Be glanced at here, by night, as colored new -- Discovered fragments underneath the sky. Our lives -- not giving of delight, as theirs So softly felt, nor for our breath to die -- A quiet going from a time that shares Its hours with sunlight, leaves, the grass, and rain. Our eyes are seeking eyes that look above, Around, that look at laughter and at pain. We sing of this our living and of love; And from our calmest, sleep-filled nights we seem -- To waken still, to suffer, and to dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AELLA: MINSTREL'S MARRIAGE-SONG by THOMAS CHATTERTON THE THIRD OF FEBRUARY, 1852 by ALFRED TENNYSON A CHRISTMAS CAROL by GEORGE WITHER THE DIFFERENCE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH AT THE FIRESIDE by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS MY LETTERS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |