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Poem by John Townsend Trowbridge Circumstance STALKING before the lords of life, one came, A Titan shape! But often he will crawl, Their most subservient, helpful humble thrall; Swift as the light, or sluggish, laggard, lame; Stony-eyed archer, launching without aim Arrows and lightnings, heedless how they fall,-- Blind Circumstance, that makes or baffles all, Happiness, length of days, power, riches, fame. Could we but take each winged chance aright! A timely word let fall, a wind-blown germ, May crown our glebe with many a golden sheaf; A thought may touch and edge our life with light, Fill all its sphere, as yonder crescent worm Brightens upon the old moon's dusky leaf. John Townsend Trowbridge John Townsend Trowbridge's other poems: Poems of the other poets with the same name: 1237 Views |
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