Classic Poem

The world was gay and blithe:
Again the world was sad:
Time moved his ceaseless scythe,
Time, neither sad nor glad.

Then dragon dragon tore;
Then swept their sheeted breath:
A spasm was at the core,
From the rent flesh rose Death.

No more than this there was —
Pain, rage, and Death through pain:
No more than this had cause
To be in land or main.

'twas thus before man came:
He came, and with him guilt:
He bent a brow of shame
On blood that had been spilt.

He cast an eye of care
On pain, on rage through pain:
And these were made aware
How awful was their reign.

And Death, that was at most
Carcase and skeleton,
Became a shadowy host
After the flesh and bone.