We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.
With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the world s great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire s glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song s measure
Can trample an empire down.
We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself with our mirth;
And o erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world s worth;
For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth.
Arthur O'Shaughnessy (1844 – 1881) England
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please keep your comments relevant and free from abusive language. Thank you. Note that comments are moderated so it may be a day or two before your comment is posted - irrelevant or abusive comments will not be published.