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George Santayana was a philosopher, essayist, poet, and novelist.
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| Rating: 5.00 |
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George Santayana's poems
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As in the midst of battle there is room
For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth;
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We needs must be divided in the tomb,
For I would die among the hills of Spain,
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Silent daisies out of reach,
Maidens of the starry grass,
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Dreamt I today the dream of yesternight,
Sleep ever feigning one evolving theme -
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Slow and reluctant was the long descent,
With many farewell pious looks behind,
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Slowly the black earth gains upon the yellow,
And the caked hill-side is ribbed soft with furrows.
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Rating: 5.00
Votes: 2 |
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I give back to the earth what the earth gave,
All to the furrow, none to the grave,
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Rating: 5.00
Votes: 2 |
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As in the midst of battle there is room
For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth;
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Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
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See this bowl of purple wine,
Life-blood of the lusty vine!
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