Dewdrops are the gems of the morning, But the tears of mournful eve: Where no hope is, life's a warning That only serves to make us grave In our old age, Whose bruised wings quarrel with the bars of the still narrowing cage -- That only serves to make us grieve With oft and tedious taking-leave, Like a poor nigh-related guest, Who may not rudely be dismissed; Yet hath outstayed his welcome while, And tells the jest without the smile. O! might life cease! and selfless mind, Whose total @3being@1 is @3act,@1 alone remain behind! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BANJO SONG by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON OH! BLAME NOT THE BARD by THOMAS MOORE APOLOGIA PRO POEMATE MEO by WILFRED OWEN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD: TRANSLATION by CAIUS PEDO ALBINOVANUS E.W.T.: ON THE DEATH OF HIS BETTY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |