NIGHT, and a bitter sky, and strange birds crying,
The wan trees whisper and the winds make moan,
Here where in ultimate peace their bones are lying
In gaunt waste places that they made their own,
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Slow sinks the glowing flame and fades the ember, No bright star flickers and the woods are stark, But still our children's children will remember The swift forerunners, bearers of the ark, Who lit the beacons in the uncharted dark. Tremendous amount of beauty and depth, the language is rich and flow with natural rhythm, a really great modern poem of the day
And so it goes throughout our human story... *No proud stone speaks*... countless unsung heroes