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“WAS HAT MAN DIR, DU ARMES KIND, GETHAN?” |
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Poems and dramas of George Cabot Lodge | ||
15
“WAS HAT MAN DIR, DU ARMES KIND, GETHAN?”
Weep nevermore again!The wind's wild footstep thrills the leaves with pain;
Then desert silence, then the scattered cries
Of frail-voiced children, then within thy heart
A sense of falling leaves through gray linked rain,
Of perished youth with grave prophetic eyes
And strange scant visions of a hopeless past;
A sense of life no older than thou art,
And in thy soul, of bright tears falling fast—
Hush! tired child, weep nevermore again.
Poems and dramas of George Cabot Lodge | ||