Classic Poem

Battle and fog and dream,
Bounded by birth and death;
Pattern of gloom and gleam
Woven of cloud and breath.

Haply the Gods are wise,—
Blind are we mortal folk;
Vision is more than eyes,
Daily our hearts are broke.

But oh, while we feel the sun
And still love lures our feet,
Blithely the way we run
And the ancient chance is sweet!