I said unto myself, if I were dead, What would befall these children? What would be Their fate, who now are looking up to me For help and furtherance? Their lives, I said, Would be a volume wherein I have read But the first chapters, and no longer see To read the rest of their dear history, So full of beauty and so full of dread. Be comforted; the world is very old, And generations pass, as they have passed, A troop of shadows moving with the sun; Thousands of times has the old tale been told; The world belongs to those who come the last, They will find hope and strength as we have done. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY HUT; AFTER TRAN QUANG KHAI by HAYDEN CARRUTH HOW THEY GO ON by JAMES GALVIN ILLUSIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON YOUTH'S PROGENY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STREET-CRIES: 7. A SONG OF LOVE by SIDNEY LANIER DOMESDAY BOOK: WIDOW FORTELKA by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |