Poems | ||
184
IV.LIFE WITHOUT FAITH.
Most fearfully and wondrously we're made;In fear and in the dark we strive to live
By sight, and in new confidence arrayed
Cry we to Nature, stay! to Fate, give, give!
Still loitering towards to-morrow, when to-day
Fails to bring forth from its too numerous toils
And manifold emotions, those great spoils
Wherewith to build a tower of strength and stay,
Reaching to heaven. Alas, we only find
To-morrow like to-day; the impending sky
Silent and blue, silent and dark and high,
The only changes, passing clouds and wind.
And round about us, blackening upwards, slopes
Accumulation vast of unproductive hopes!
Poems | ||