Who are we, who complain That life is cruel, that we have lain Upon the bed of pain? Why do we, who never tried And with all are dissatisfied, From every ill still hide? How do we wish to go, Be like the owl, be "in the know," But praying for tamer winds to blow? Who -- why -- how, are we quite dead? "Ho, Lazarus, rise from your bed, No more crumbs -- a loaf of bread!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MINOR POET by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET EMERGENCY HAYING by HAYDEN CARRUTH TRANSLUCENT FINGERS by MALCOLM COWLEY I SING OF LOVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MODULATIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |