We drink life's cup with thirsty lips, Our eyes shut fast to fears; About the golden rim there drips Our staining blood, our tears. But when the last swift hour comes on, The light long hid is lit, From startled eyes the band is gone, We suffer and submit. It is not our part to possess The cup that golden gleamed. We see its shallow emptiness: We did not drink—we dreamed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JUNE (1) by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT CAELICA: 100 by FULKE GREVILLE WOMEN MEN'S SHADOWS by BEN JONSON OUTSIDE THE TOYSHOP by JANE BARLOW A THRESHER OF WHEAT TO THE WYNDES by JOACHIM DU BELLAY THE NEW WORLD; TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES by LAURENCE BINYON AFTERWARDS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 24 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |