Ричард Генри Стоддард (Richard Henry Stoddard)

The Flight of the Arrow

THE LIFE of man
  Is an arrow’s flight,
Out of darkness
  Into light,
And out of light        
  Into darkness again;
Perhaps to pleasure,
  Perhaps to pain!

  There must be Something,
  Above, or below;        
Somewhere unseen
  A mighty Bow,
A Hand that tires not,
  A sleepless Eye
That sees the arrows        
  Fly, and fly;
One who knows
  Why we live—and die.

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