THE stars know a secret They do not tell; And morn brings a message Hidden well. There's a blush on the apple, A tint on the wing, And the bright wind whistles, And the pulses sting. Perish dark memories! There's light ahead; This world's for the living, Not for the dead. In the shining city, On the loud pave, The life-tide is running Like a leaping wave. How the stream quickens, As noon draws near! No room for loiterers, No time for fear. Out on the farm lands Earth smiles as well; Gold-crusted grain-fields, With sweet, warm smell; Whir of the reaper, Like a giant bee; Like a Titan cricket, Thrilling with glee. On mart and meadow, Pavement or plain; On azure mountain, Or azure main, -- Heaven bends in blessing; Lost is but won; Goes the good rain-cloud, Comes the good sun: Only babes whimper, And sick men wail, And faint hearts and feeble hearts, And weaklings fail. Down the great currents Let the boat swing; There was never winter But brought the spring. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ELIZABETH CHILDERS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS GLASS HOUSES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON STANZAS TO THE PO by GEORGE GORDON BYRON LEARNING TO READ by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER BEETHOVEN'S THIRD SYMPHONY by RICHARD HOVEY |