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Poem by Leigh Gordon Giltner


If in the spirit glows no spark divine;
If soulless dust return to dust again;
If, after life, but death and dark remain--
Then it were well to make the moment thine,
Bacchante-steeping soul and sense in wine,
In lotus-lulling languors, fond desires
That heat the heart with fierce, unhallowed fires--
Till Pleasure, Circe-like, transform us into swine.
But if some subtler spirit thrill our clay,
Some God-like flame illume this fleeting dust--
Promethean fire snatched from the Olympian height--
Then must we choose the nobler, higher Way,
Seeking the Beautiful, the Pure, the Just--
The ultimate crowned triumph of the Right!

See Hedonism

Leigh Gordon Giltner

Leigh Gordon Giltner's other poems:
  1. To One Who Sleeps
  2. To R. D. MacLean
  3. Shylock
  4. Afterbloom
  5. To Bliss Carman

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