 | Voices and visions |  |
60
[XIV So many of us are dead before we die]
So many of us are dead before we die!The rhythm of life has lost for us all tune;
Our dial of sunshine hath forgot its noon;
We think in autumns, while the ungrudging sky
Still bends to us the effulgence of its June,
And every flower amid our garden's maze,
With each bluff zigzag bee that thither strays,
Plots blithe rebellion against winter's blast.
Thus we turn callous to the live day's deeds,
Deafening our ears howe'er the present pleads,
Crowning with memory's myrtles our pale past,
A thankless ghost that neither hears nor heeds.
| Voices and visions | |