WHO knows, who knows, what passing thing Into my life to-day may fling, To be the longest task of all That life is wont herself to set How to remember, —or forget,— How to abandon,—or recall. For me what beauties that survive The little actual life they live May, in the substance, die in vain? And what delight that's over soon May round the full of memory's moon, And hold in check—what seas of pain? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BAD CHILD'S BOOK OF BEASTS: INTRODUCTION by HILAIRE BELLOC THE RHINOCEROS by HILAIRE BELLOC CONTRA MORTEM: THE LEAVES by HAYDEN CARRUTH FRAGMENTS WRITTEN WHILE TRAVELING...A MIDWESTERN HEAT WAVE by JAMES GALVIN POETRY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SHALL I SAY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |