Life's urges pale In poet's passion. Light you your lamps At dead repression -- Ghosts, O Ghosts, Light, but to fail. Flesh lustings die Their crimson glory Wastes as waste winds On war-plains gory -- (Ghosts -- O Ghosts That have passed you by!) Mother of the dead Her breasts unsuckled, Though thunders crashed To no dream truckled ... Death itself On death full fed. Life's urges pale In poet's passion. Light you your lamps At dead repression. (Ghosts -- O Ghosts And a mounting gale!) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A FRIEND WHOSE WORK HAS COME TO NOTHING by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS INVITATION TO PETERHEAD by JAMES HAY BEATTIE NOVEMBER MORNING by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE EPISTLE TO MRS. SCOTT OF WAUCHOPE by ROBERT BURNS THE RAIN ON THE ROOF by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE BEGGAR AND THE DIVINE by JOHN BYROM OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 18. ELEGIAC VERSE: THE FIRST EPIGRAM by THOMAS CAMPION |