I said within myself: I am a fool To sigh ever for that which being gone Cannot return: the sun shines as it shone; Rejoice: -- but who can be made glad by rule? My heart and soul and spirit are no tool To play with and direct; my cheek is wan With memory; and ever and anon I weep feeling life is a weary school. There is much noise and bustle in the street; It used to be so, and it is so now; All are the same, and will be many a year. Spirit, that canst not break and wilt not bow, Fear not the cold, thou who hast borne the heat; -- Die if thou wilt; but what hast thou to fear? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 151 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SURCEASE by ALICE GARDNER ADAMS PARLEYINGS WITH CERTAIN PEOPLE OF IMPORTANCE: GERARD DE MANDEVILLE by ROBERT BROWNING THE ORIGIN OF ACRYLIC by THOMAS WILLARD CLARK THE ROMANCE OF A GLOVE by HENRY SAVILE CLARKE |