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 | The poetical works of Edward Rowland Sill |  |
Splendid beginners, still we toil and fill
The vestibule of our lives with useless plans,
With noise of hammer, scaffolding and dust
And rubbish, building some imagined fane
To worship in through years that never come.
For life is like the legendary bird
The Christ-child's hands were moulding out of clay:
While we are shaping it with eager care,
We look up startled, for the bird has flown!
The vestibule of our lives with useless plans,
With noise of hammer, scaffolding and dust
And rubbish, building some imagined fane
To worship in through years that never come.
For life is like the legendary bird
The Christ-child's hands were moulding out of clay:
While we are shaping it with eager care,
We look up startled, for the bird has flown!
| The poetical works of Edward Rowland Sill | |