 | Uncollected poems and prose of Edwin Arlington Robinson |  |
MENOETES
Who is this fellow floundering in the wave,
Flung from the Trojan galley thundering by?
Lightly, my friend; he may be you, or I!
This passage from the master to the slave
Is but a flash; the pinnacle we crave
Totters and falls; and life is but to fly
The dark immediate anguish surging nigh—
To foil the shrewd enclosure of the grave.
Flung from the Trojan galley thundering by?
Lightly, my friend; he may be you, or I!
This passage from the master to the slave
Is but a flash; the pinnacle we crave
Totters and falls; and life is but to fly
The dark immediate anguish surging nigh—
To foil the shrewd enclosure of the grave.
So, when I read of old Menoetes thrown
By raging Gyas to the furrowed brine,
I cannot wholly laugh: there is a tone
Of merry sadness in the poet's line
That tells me summer suns will never shine
When skies with tyrannous clouds are overblown.
By raging Gyas to the furrowed brine,
I cannot wholly laugh: there is a tone
Of merry sadness in the poet's line
That tells me summer suns will never shine
When skies with tyrannous clouds are overblown.
| Uncollected poems and prose of Edwin Arlington Robinson | |