Tired of man's futile, petty cry, Of lips that lie and flout, I saw the slow sun dim and die And the slim dusk slip out . . . Life held no room for doubt. What though Death claim the ones I prize In War's insane crusade, Last night I saw Orion rise And the great day-star fade, And I am not dismayed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 12. AT THE DRAPER'S by THOMAS HARDY THE COMET AT YELL'HAM by THOMAS HARDY THE COUNTY OF MAYO by THOMAS LAVELLE PORTRAIT OF A LADY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS A SPIRITUAL AND WELL-ORDERED MIND by HENRY ALFORD A SONG OF PROGRESS by ALEXANDER ANDERSON PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 6. ALLAH-AS-SALAM by EDWIN ARNOLD HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 37 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |