The End (Owen)

After the blast of lightning from the east,

The flourish of loud clouds, the Chariot Throne;

After the drums of time have rolled and ceased,

And by the bronze west long retreat is blown,

Shall Life renew these bodies? Of a truth,

All death will he annul, all tears assuage?

Or fill these void veins full again with youth,

And wash, with an immortal water, age?

When I do ask white Age, he saith not so:

'My head hangs weighed with snow.'

And when I hearken to the Earth, she saith:

'My fiery heart shrinks, aching. It is death.

Mine ancient scars shall not be glorified,

Nor my titanic tears, the seas, be dried.'