To spend uncounted years of pain,
Again, again, and yet again,
In working out in heart and brain
The problem of our being here;
To gather facts from far and near,
Upon the mind to hold them clear,
And, knowing more may yet appear,
Unto one's latest breath to fear
The premature result to draw--
Is this the object, end and law,
And purpose of our being here?
Perché Pensa? Pensando S'invecchia
Arthur Hugh Clough
(1)
Poem topics: breath, fear, heart, pain, clear, brain, mind, problem, purpose, hold, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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