Between old Pan and Pandemonium Our lives hold all too little interlude. Our day's bassoon, our blood's euphonium, The old gods set the tone in the old, old feud. Thin, flapping tatters on a line to dry Between the walls of two grim tenements With far away a handkerchief of sky ... Behold our triumphs, failures, ravishments! Brief, casual notes dictated but unread, Soon burdening the air less than a flower, Our lives are published but unedited, Dull testimonials to an ancient power. We would change dreams to truth—gray sleep betrays us; End war—our arms are held by greed and hate; And build a new Atlantis—change dismays us. We would reshape our lives—it is too late. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPHIUM CITHARISTRIAE by VICTOR GUSTAVE PLARR EMPTY ROOM by NATHANIEL ANKETELL BENSON CAELIA: SONNETS: 2 by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) SELLA by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE KNIGHT'S EPITAPH by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: THE MAGIC LAND by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |