The clouds that pass so swiftly o'er the downs, Huge armies of the ether, put to flight By sudden onslaught of the ambushed wind, Fill me with thoughts of how we human host Are not allowed to linger in the vale, Plucking the fruits and lotus flowers of peace; But scattered far by Fate's invisible breath Over the heavy hills of toil are driven In confused flight, and know no resting-place. But as those airy squadrons at the last Meet the great sea and mingle with its waves, So man, tho' driven o'er lonelier, steeper hills, More rocky heights and drearier wildernesses, Must in the end be borne beyond the shore. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AQUATINT FRAMED IN GOLD by AMY LOWELL CAPUT MORTUUM by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE POPLAR by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM ON GROWING OLD by JOHN MASEFIELD ON THE EPHEMERALNESS OF BEAUTY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS APRIL by OBADIAH CYRUS AURINGER BALLADE OF MYSELF AND MONSIEUR RABELAIS by LEONARD BACON (1887-1954) |