J. E. B.
Not all the pageant of the setting sun Should yield the tired eyes of man delight, No sweet beguiling power had stars at night To soothe his fainting heart when day is done, Nor any secret voice of benison Might nature own, were not each sound and sight The sign and symbol of the infinite, The prophecy of things not yet begun. So had these lips, so early sealed with sleep, No fruitful word, life no power to move Our deeper reverence, did we not see How more than all he said, he was, how, deep Below this broken life, he ever wove The finer substance of a life to be.
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"Not all the pageant of the setting sun..."
This evocative piece by Arthur Sherburne Hardy, titled "J. E. B.", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...