SO it is that men Wake, strive and sleep. Sink gnawing in their hollow bosoms Starved passions, creep Endless the crushed immortal Fall'n memories that once rose Out of the deep. So it is that women Wake, love and weep Till the lost children of love Laugh, and the unborn leap Smiling upon their hollow bosoms. Sealed then in soundless cave Lies griefasleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LET IT BE YOU by SARA TEASDALE NIGHTFALL IN DORDRECHT by EUGENE FIELD WAITING FOR THE GRAPES by WILLIAM MAGINN OUR LADY'S LULLABY by RICHARD ROWLANDS THE SNOW MAN by WALLACE STEVENS STELLA'S BIRTHDAY, 1718 by JONATHAN SWIFT THE SPIRIT OF THE SABBATH by ISIDORE G. ASCHER |