Friday, October 18, 2013

An Eternity


There is no dusk to be,

There is no dawn that was,

Only there's now, and now,

And the wind in the grass.


Days I remember of

Now in my heart, are now;

Days that I dream will bloom

White peach bough.



Dying shall never be

Now in the windy grass;

Now under shooken leaves

Death never was.


by Archibald MacLeish

No comments:

Post a Comment