Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, OCTAVES: 5, by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON



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OCTAVES: 5, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: To me the groaning of world-worshippers
Last Line: That shines on thought's impenetrable mail.


There is one battle-field whereon we fall
Triumphant and unconquered; but, alas!
We are too fleshly fearful of ourselves
To fight there till our days are whirled and blurred
By sorrow, and the ministering wheels
Of anguish take us eastward, where the clouds
Of human gloom are lost against the gleam
That shines on Thought's impenetrable mail.






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