Classic Poem

There will be no more death;
There will be no more pain.
I fought them: they lie there;
Slain.

Up through the halls of time;
I fought: I overcame.
From the blind Dark beneath the world;
And through the shouting flame.

To win this body bright,
This sheath to hold its lord;
Treasure of breath and being;
Mightier than the sword.

And sundered soul and body,
From death on death of pain
Rose up to serve this conquering Life,
Even as servants twain.

O, far and filled with tidings,
Some air of Earth blows sweet;
BuThere are songs from star to star;
And the Sun beneath our feet.