Why should we argue with the falling dust Or tremble in the traffic of the days? Our hearts are music-makers in the clouds, Our feet are running on the heavenly ways. We'll go and find the honey of romance Within the hollow of the sacred tree. There is a spirit in the eastern sky, Calling along the dawn to you and me. She'll lead us to the forest where she hides The yellow wine that keeps the angels young -- We are the chosen lovers of the earth For whom alone the golden comb was hung. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE CHILD by HAYDEN CARRUTH IMAGINARY ANCESTORS: THE GIRAFFE WOMAN OF BURMA by MADELINE DEFREES I LOOKED FOR LIFE AND DID A SHADOW SEE by JAMES GALVIN A MAN CHILD IS BORN (1839) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THEY PRAISE THE SUN by JOHN CROWE RANSOM |