WE, teeming transients of the sun, Until our eager race be run, Bestir us in a hundred ways To leave, before the caverned dark Engulf us, some small, vital spark -- A firefly in a somber maze -- To say to those who follow, we Are not extinguished utterly; Our mortal, that is less than naught, Fixed in a white, immortal thought. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GROWING GRAY by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON TYRANNICK [TYRANNIC] LOVE: PROLOGUE by JOHN DRYDEN CEREMONIES FOR CHRISTMAS (1) by ROBERT HERRICK BISHOP HATTO [AND THE RATS] by ROBERT SOUTHEY MAUD MULLER by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |