The Song Of The Children
The World is ours till sunset, Holly and fire and snow; And the name of our dead brother Who loved us long ago. The grown folk mighty and cunning, They write his name in gold; But we can tell a little Of the million tales he told. He taught them laws and watchwords, To preach and struggle and pray; But he taught us deep in the hayfield The games that the angels play. Had he stayed here for ever, Their world would be wise as ours-- And the king be cutting capers, And the priest be picking flowers. But the dark day came: they gathered: On their faces we could see They had taken and slain our brother, And hanged him on a tree.
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"The World is ours till sunset,..."
Gilbert Keith Chesterton's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "The Song Of The Children"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...