English poem
Xiii
by Edward Carpenter (1844–1929)
Carry him out! more room! come up behind! One peephole vacant! now the show’s at height. Strange, that our predecessors--though not blind-- Ne’er fully saw or understood the sight, Withal so anxious to display their light For our illumination! But away: Our time for all such questioning is quite Too limited. Enough, while yet ’tis day, To use the precious hours. Let night come when it may.
FLORENCE, 1873.