Page:Collected poems Robinson, Edwin Arlington.djvu/76

 And that's over. Here you are, Battered by the past. Time will have his little scar, But the wound won't last. Nor shall harrowing surprise Find a world without its eyes If a star fades when the skies Are overcast. God knows there are lives enough, Crushed, and too far gone Longer to make sermons of, And those we leave alone. Others, if they will, may rend The worn patience of a friend Who, though smiling, sees the end, With nothing done. But your fervor to be free Fled the faith it scorned; Death demands a decency Of you, and you are warned. But for all we give we get Mostly blows? Don't be upset; You, Bokardo, are not yet Consumed or mourned. There'll be falling into view Much to rearrange; And there'll be a time for you To marvel at the change. They that have the least to fear Question hardest what is here; When long-hidden skies are clear, The stars look strange