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It may be misery not to sing at all,
And to go silent through the brimming day;
It may be misery never to be loved,
But deeper griefs than these beset the way.
To sing the perfect song,
And by a half-tone lost the key,
There the potent sorrow, there the grief,
The pale, sad staring of Life's Tragedy.
To have come near to the perfect love,
Not the hot passion of untempered youth,
But that which lies aside its vanity,
And gives, for thy trusting worship, truth.
This, this indeed is to be accursed,
For if we mortals love, or if we sing,
We count our joys not by what we have,
But by what kept us from that perfect thing.
Paul Laurence Dunbar
| Submitted Date |
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Friday, January 03, 2003 |
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Read poems about / on: grief, passion, sorrow, sad, truth, song, lost, life, love, joy, trust
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Comments about this poem (Life's Tragedy
by
Paul Laurence Dunbar
) |
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Paige S (4/16/2010 2:59:00 PM)
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Now this is lovely! ! ! !
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Emma Adamyan (4/16/2010 1:38:00 PM)
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and I don`t understand why so low votes. namely I put 10, because I think it`s a real poem, but not boring, just need to get the idea the author tried to deliver. i think he took farer about falling short. for sometimes 2+2 is not 4. in life it goes bit different way than in mathematics. bright and memorable work!
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Kevin Straw (4/16/2010 3:48:00 AM)
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The greatest tragedy is not to fall short of perfection but not to try for it.
Should it not be: 'And by a half-tone lose the key.'
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Ramesh T A (4/16/2010 1:50:00 AM)
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Interesting analogy between music and love is well expressed by the poet!
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Singatha Gcilitshana (4/16/2009 5:47:00 AM)
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Well i'm overwhelmed by the words on the poem, its more like the writer was emotionall, sad, and consend about what life has/have in these days.
Knowing from experience i've gone through the same but i may have to say life has a destination no matter what.
I am proud of this man.
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Ranjani Sriram (4/16/2008 3:40:00 AM)
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Just beautiful... What essence this poem contains!
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Eithne Queen of Celts (4/16/2008 2:27:00 AM)
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I have recently learned at school about Laurence Dunbar...what sensitive poem he writes, he, whose parents had been black slaves.He writes beautifully and i am proud of everything he did, how he rised up to the best forms of art, by himself.
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Janri Gogeshvili (4/16/2008 2:07:00 AM)
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Beautiful reminder... _
We count our joys not by what we have,
But by what kept us from that perfect thing.
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Coach Roth (4/16/2008 12:34:00 AM)
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As the Bhuddists say...'I choose to rejoice in the sorrowfulness of life.' Coach
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15
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