DOUBTFUL DREAMS 



For the great things of earth are small things, 



The longest life is a span, 

 And there is an end to all things, 



A season to every man, 

 Whose glory is dust and ashes. 



Whose spirit is but a spark, 

 That out from the darkness flashes, 



And flickers out in the dark. 



We remember the pangs that wrung us 



When some went down to the pit, 

 Who faded as leaves among us, 



Who flitted as shadows flit ; 

 What visions under the stone lie ? 



What dreams in the shroud sleep dwell ? 

 For we saw the earth pit only. 



And we heard only the knell. 



We know not whether they slumber 



Who waken on earth no more. 

 As the stars of the heights in number. 



As sands on the deep sea-shore. 

 Shall stiffness bind them, and starkness 



Enthral them, by field and flood. 



Till "the sun shall be turn'd to darkness, 



And the moon shall be turn'd to blood " ? 



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