Abide the Adventure: Difference between revisions
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<paragraph keywords="affect, car | <paragraph keywords="affect, car part"> | ||
<poem> | <poem> | ||
Neither from the woe, | |||
Nor from the war, | Nor from the war, | ||
Think ye to escape... | Think ye to escape... | ||
It helps nothing that ye shut your eyes, oh, cloistered | It helps nothing that ye shut your eyes, oh, cloistered cowards and gilded idlers! | ||
cowards and gilded idlers! | For neither shall cushion nor buffet ease the sharp shock of life, | ||
For neither shall cushion nor buffet ease the sharp | Neither shall delicate music in hushed hotels drown out the roar of the battling streets... | ||
shock of life, | Neither shall wingéd wheels carry you away to the place of peace... | ||
Neither shall delicate music in hushed hotels drown out | |||
the roar of the battling streets... | |||
Neither shall wingéd wheels carry you away to the | |||
place of peace... | |||
How can ye go from yourselves, deluded ones? | How can ye go from yourselves, deluded ones? | ||
</poem> | </poem> | ||
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The Aladdin of the soul builds in the heart | The Aladdin of the soul builds in the heart | ||
A world of unresting hell... | A world of unresting hell... | ||
And, oh ye shunners of war, ye are gruelled in a war | And, oh ye shunners of war, ye are gruelled in a war of the spirit, | ||
of the spirit, | In a battle of nerves and blood-vessels and the ghosthaunted brain, | ||
In a battle of nerves and blood-vessels and the ghosthaunted | |||
brain, | |||
And the death of delight... | And the death of delight... | ||
</poem> | </poem> | ||
Revision as of 14:30, 1 July 2024
| Author | Oppenheim, James |
|---|---|
| Genre | Poetry |
| Journal or Book | Songs for the New Era |
| Publisher | The Century Co. |
| Year of Publication | 1914 |
| Pages | 39-40 |
| Additional information | - |
Neither from the woe,
Nor from the war,
Think ye to escape...
It helps nothing that ye shut your eyes, oh, cloistered cowards and gilded idlers!
For neither shall cushion nor buffet ease the sharp shock of life,
Neither shall delicate music in hushed hotels drown out the roar of the battling streets...
Neither shall wingéd wheels carry you away to the place of peace...
How can ye go from yourselves, deluded ones?
Make but a world of rest:
Swifter than striking lightning
The Aladdin of the soul builds in the heart
A world of unresting hell...
And, oh ye shunners of war, ye are gruelled in a war of the spirit,
In a battle of nerves and blood-vessels and the ghosthaunted brain,
And the death of delight...
Hence, whip ye to battle:
Live ye to the uttermost:
Abide the adventure.
