There is one battle-field whereon we fall Triumphant and unconquered; but, alas! We are too fleshly fearful of ourselves To fight there till our days are whirled and blurred By sorrow, and the ministering wheels Of anguish take us eastward, where the clouds Of human gloom are lost against the gleam That shines on Thought's impenetrable mail. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RELIGION AND DOCTRINE by JOHN MILTON HAY SIXTY-EIGHTH BIRTHDAY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL CONSIDER by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 2. TO SLEEP by MARK AKENSIDE EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 44. TEARS THE SYMPTOM LOVE by PHILIP AYRES AUNT FANNY; A LEGEND OF A SHIRT by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |