Classic and Contemporary Poetry
FINALE, by EVELYN BYRNES First Line: He walked with pleasure every idle hour Last Line: A chill wind mourns alone above his clay. | ||||||||
He walked with Pleasure every idle hour, Eluding virtue while he followed joy. With careless freedom, conscious of his power, He formed his friendships only to destroy. Men called him heartless; women shed vain tears. He scoffed at creeds that pointed him to prayer. His selfish days slipped into numbered years Without a pause; and none were left to care. Then came a moment that remorse gave check; He turned to charity to cloak his wrong. His waking conscience, long a shadowed wreck, Applied for peace in penitential song. No bribe had strength to add an extra day -- A chill wind mourns alone above his clay. | Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: AT NICE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DEJECTION by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE VOICELESS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES A RONDEAU OF REGRETS by HENRI BAUDE THE PURITAN by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH RECOLLECTIONS OF SOLITUDE; AN ELEGY by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |
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