Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HEAVENS ARE OUR RIDDLE, by HERBERT BATES



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THE HEAVENS ARE OUR RIDDLE, by            
Last Line: Expectant of the silence of the skies.
Subject(s): Agnosticism


THE heavens are our riddle; and the sea,
Forested earth, the grassy rustling plain,
Snows, rains, and thunders. Yea, and even we
Before ourselves stand ominous. In vain !
The stars still march their way, the sea still rolls,
The forests wave, the plain drinks in the sun,
And we stand silent, naked, -- with tremulous souls, --
Before our unsolved selves. We pray to one
Whose hand should help us. But we hear no voice;
Skies clear and darken; the days pale and pass,
Nor any bids us weep or bids rejoice.
Only the wind sobs in the shrivelling grass, --
Only the wind, -- and we with upward eyes
Expectant of the silence of the skies.





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