Life

 CHILDREN, ye have not lived, to you it seems 
Life is a lovely stalactite of dreams, 
Or carnival of careless joys that leap 
About your hearts like billows on the deep 
In flames of amber and of amethyst.
 


Children, ye have not lived, ye but exist 
Till some resistless hour shall rise and move 
Your hearts to wake and hunger after love, 
And thirst with passionate longing for the things 
That burn your brows with blood-red sufferings.
 


Till ye have battled with great grief and fears, 
And borne the conflict of dream-shattering years, 
Wounded with fierce desire and worn with strife, 
Children, ye have not lived: for this is life.

Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem |

Poems are below...