Oh, time will break us as it has the others. The beautiful and strong, the gay, the proud Between the cradling breasts of their two mothers, Have sung their weary hearts out to the crowd. Rich in metal that no mint may utter, They struck hot molten youth into a song, And with it won the solace of the gutter -- Villon, and Poe, and all the lonely throng. And here today, while our own songs unsung Still hum pent fire in our quick arteries; While the sweet agony of being young Is ours; and this pollen-heavy breeze Has loosed your hair, and fanned a sudden flame, I wonder so -- I falter on your name. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A RECEIPT TO CURE THE VAPOURS by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 15. TO THE EVENING STAR by MARK AKENSIDE THE HERO OF VIMY; AN INCIDENT OF THE GREAT WAR by BRENT DOW ALLINSON TWO SONNETS: 2 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) HYMN TO THE WINDS by JOACHIM DU BELLAY PSALM 67 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |