Thursday, April 19, 2012

Ode

We are the music-makers,
     And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
     And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and World-forsakers,
     On whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers
     Of the world for ever, it seems.

With wonderful deathless ditties
     And out of a fabulous story
We build up the world's great cities,
     We fashion an empire's glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
     Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song's measure
     Can trample an empire down.

     We, in the ages lying
           In the buried past of the earth,
  Built Nineveh with our sighing
          And Babel itself with our mirth;
 And o'erthrew them with prophesying
        To the old of a new world's worth;
 For each age is a dream that is dying,
       Or one that is coming to birth.

~Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy

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