MEN say the world is full of fear and hate, And all life's ripening harvest-fields await The restless sickle of relentless fate. But I, sweet Soul, rejoice that I was born, When from the climbing terraces of corn I watch the golden orioles of Thy morn. What care I for the world's desire and pride, Who know the silver wings that gleam and glide, The homing pigeons of Thine eventide? What care I for the world's loud weariness, Who dream in twilight granaries Thou dost bless With delicate sheaves of mellow silences? Say, shall I heed dull presages of doom, Or dread the rumoured loneliness and gloom, The mute and mythic terror of the tomb? For my glad heart is drunk and drenched with Thee, O inmost wine of living ecstasy! O intimate essence of eternity! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GOODLY SONG by PAUL VERLAINE THE SICK ROSE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE FLOWER-GATHERING by ROBERT FROST A WINTER TWILIGHT by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE IN THE PINK' by SIEGFRIED SASSOON IDYLLS OF THE KING: THE PASSING OF ARTHUR by ALFRED TENNYSON |