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Poets

1886-1918


Vain is the chiming of forgotten bells
         That the wind sways above a ruined shrine.
Vainer his voice in whom no longer dwells
         Hunger that craves immortal Bread and Wine.

Light songs we breathe that perish with our breath
         Out of our lips that have not kissed the rod.
They shall not live who have not tasted death.
         They only sing who are struck dumb by God.


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DayPoems Poem No. 1339



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The DayPoems web site, www.daypoems.net, is copyright 2001-2006 by Timothy Keith Bovee. All rights reserved.

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