Inside the skull the wakeful brain, Attuned at birth to joy and pain, Dwells for a lifetime; even as one Who in a closed tower sees the sun Cast faint-hued shadows, dim or clear, Upon the darkened disc: now near, Now far, they flit; while he, within, Surveys the world he may not win: Whate'er he sees, he notes; for nought Escapes the net of living thought; And what he notes, he tells again To last and build the brains of men. Shades are we; and of shades we weave A trifling pleasant make-believe; Then pass into the shadowy night, Where formless shades blindfold the light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHY I LOVE HER by ALEXANDER BROME O BLACK AND UNKNOWN BARDS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE NINETEENTH OF APRIL, 1861 by LUCY LARCOM A BALLAD OF THE FRENCH FLEET; OCTOBER, 1746 by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 5. SHE THINKS OF THE FAITHFUL ONE by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS FOUR SONNETS: 4 by FRANK DAVIS ASHBURN |