Night is a dissident changeling born To the sun-king by the bride of dawn, Measureless the intervals when, half-waking, He witnesses the straining desperation Of a people seeking mercy in the sweet release of dark. Life is a crust of blackened hope Moistened by grief to a tasteless mouthful Swallowed by death. Briefly are shredded our last illusions: Knowledge is shown as a poorly dyed garment, Power the frame of an empty caravel, Fame but the marks of a shifting rod In the hands of the blind. People must be unbearable to themselves, Unbearable. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A COMPARISON [ADDRESSED] TO A YOUNG LADY by WILLIAM COWPER HERO AND LEANDER by CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE IMITATIONS OF HORACE: ODE IV, 1 by ALEXANDER POPE A SALON SCENE by ANTON ALEXANDER VON AUERSPERG THREE THINGS by CHRISTOPHER BANNISTER COMPENSATION by MARION L. BERTRAND THE FARMER'S WIFE by BERTON BRALEY SHAKESPEARE READS THE KING JAMES VERSION by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON ON A DISTANT VIEW OF THE VILLAGE AND SCHOOL OF HARROW by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |