RARE wine is theirs Who have no taste for wine; For them who have no hunger Great herds of kine; For hearts that have no craving Delight and laughter In the days that were -- and now, And in the days hereafter. But Thirst must walk The hot, unwatered lands; And Hunger must stalk With white and empty hands; And Rest must move forever, And Peace assemble Where the great guns boom and crash And the brown rocks tremble. No love have I Whose heart was made for loving; No lands have I Whose foot was made for roving. Lonely now I walk the street, Cold with alien faces -- Lonely from the long defeat And the yearning, bitter-sweet, For the silent places. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOURNEY TO A KNOWN PLACE by HAYDEN CARRUTH LA NOCHE TRISTE by ROBERT FROST HOW MY HEART SINKS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO HORACE BUMSTEAD by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ATELIER CEZANNE by CLARENCE MAJOR EIGHTEEN-DOLLAR TAXI TRIP TO TIZAPAN AND BACK TO CHAPALA by CLARENCE MAJOR |