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.