THERE'S a soft host whose van will be With life pressed onward to the last; And generations pause to see The fair procession never passed;— Mysterious legions, armed to move The world at such a cost of love. We would not join it, you and I, That host we broke from long ago. Sweeter to pause, and watch it by, And all its wealth of joy to know,— And all its lightening of the world, And 'wildering softness, sunny-curled. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OVID, OLD BUDDY, I WOULD DISCOURSE WITH YOU A WHILE by HAYDEN CARRUTH SONG OF TWO CROWS by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE SACRAL DREAMS OF RAMON FERNANDEZ by JAMES GALVIN TO MARY CHURCH TERRELL - LECTURER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ON A TUFT OF GRASS by EMMA LAZARUS CORPORATE ENTITY by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH CHARLOTTE CORDAY (REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL, JULY 17, 1793) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |