I COUNT it true which sages teach -- That passion sways not with repose, That love, confounding these with those, Is ever welding each with each. And so when time has ebbed away, Like childish wreaths too lightly held, The song of immemorial eld Shall moan about the belted bay. Where slant Orion slopes his star, To swelter in the rolling seas, Till slowly widening by degrees The grey climbs upward from afar. And golden youth and passion stray Along the ridges of the strand, -- Not far apart, but hand in hand, -- With all the darkness danced away! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOW THEY GO ON by JAMES GALVIN ALIENS (TO YOU - EVERYWHERE! DEDICATED) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DEAD LEAVES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE WILLOW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO W.E.B. DUBOIS - SCHOLAR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BEAUTY THAT IS NEVER OLD by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |