Slowly I smoke and hug my knee,
The while a witless masquerade
Of things that only children see
Floats in a mist of light and shade:
They pass, a flimsy cavalcade,
And with a weak, remindful glow,
The falling embers break and fade,
As one by one the phantoms go.
Then, with a melancholy glee
To think where once my fancy strayed,
I muse on what the years may be
Whose coming tales are all unsaid,
Till tongs and shovel, snugly laid
Within their shadowed niches, grow
By grim degrees to pick and spade,
As one by one the phantoms go.
But then, what though the mystic Three
Around me ply their merry trade? --
And Charon soon may carry me
Across the gloomy Stygian glade? --
Be up, my soul! nor be afraid
Of what some unborn year may show;
But mind your human debts are paid,
As one by one the phantoms go.
ENVOY
Life is the game that must be played:
This truth at least, good friend, we know;
So live and laugh, nor be dismayed
As one by one the phantoms go.
A filmsy cavalcade! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
We wonder what new danger there is in store for us, and we begin to feel nervous and anxious but as told life is a game and that must be played as one by one the phantoms go..........very well composed and inspiring
I like his style and he reminds me of some other poet, though I'm not sure just who.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Spam is my favorite food Spam is my favorite food Spam is my favorite food Spam is my favorite food Spam is my favorite food