The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley [i.e. J. B. L. Warren] |
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 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
XV
Lives that are patch'd of trifles have no thread
Of purpose, aimless as the days of birds,
Spending in no prevision deed and words,
Weaklings of chance; as troops without a head
Of purpose, aimless as the days of birds,
Spending in no prevision deed and words,
Weaklings of chance; as troops without a head
That pause and fear and vanish, when instead
These same had crush'd the phalanx in its war,
Or torn the bastion'd rampant rock and bar
And forc'd the very cope of hardihead—
These same had crush'd the phalanx in its war,
Or torn the bastion'd rampant rock and bar
And forc'd the very cope of hardihead—
The paltriness of lives with no beyond,
Days roll to months and months result in years,
The man no inch the nobler as he nears
Days roll to months and months result in years,
The man no inch the nobler as he nears
His problem's end, that puts him from his bond
With nature, and no reverence on his wane,
His grave forgetful silence or disdain.
With nature, and no reverence on his wane,
His grave forgetful silence or disdain.
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |