NOW in an hour the meadows bright with gold, The hills could-patterned where far shadows pass, The pool translucent green, and cool as glass, Are lost eternally. For hours grow old; And hot noon wastes to twilight, full of cold; And the late river chills to opaque brass In a low sun; and mists rise, mass on mass, To quench the empowered light one day may hold. But ever less forgotten than these things, Less transient than their strength, your words that lend To faint futurity a confidence— A power strong beyond all reckonings; Time will destroy their glory in the end, Yet cannot break their timeless influence. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VARIATIONS: 14 by CONRAD AIKEN VARIATIONS: 16 by CONRAD AIKEN VARIATIONS: 18 by CONRAD AIKEN THE LITANY OF THE DARK PEOPLE by COUNTEE CULLEN TO JOHN BROWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPECIAL PLEADING by SIDNEY LANIER |