As in the Midst of Battle there is Room

By George Santayana

1863-1952


As in the midst of battle there is room
         For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth;
         As gossips whisper of a trinket's worth
Spied by the death-bed's flickering candle-gloom;
As in the crevices of Caesar's tomb
         The sweet herbs flourish on a little earth:
         So in this great disaster of our birth
We can be happy, and forget our doom.

For morning, with a ray of tenderest joy
         Gilding the iron heaven, hides the truth,
And evening gently woos us to employ
         Our grief in idle catches. Such is youth;
Till from that summer's trance we wake, to find
Despair before us, vanity behind.

DayPoems Poem No. 1235
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/1235.html">As in the Midst of Battle there is Room by George Santayana</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor

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