quote · Legacy record
Oh dreadful thought, if all our sires and we Are but foundations of a race to be,— Stones which one thrusts in earth, and builds thereon A write delight, a Parian Parthenon, And thither, long thereafter, youth and maid Seek with glad brows the alabaster shade. And in processions’ pomp together bent Still interchange their sweet words innocent,— Not caring that those mighty columns rest Each on the ruin of a human breast,— That to the shrine the victor’s chariot rolls Across the anguish of ten thousand souls! “Well was it that our fathers suffered thus,” I hear them say, “that all might end in us; Well was it here and there a bard should feel Pains premature and hurt that none could heal; These were their preludes, thus the race began; So hard a matter was the birth of Man.” And yet these too shall pass and fade and flee, And in their death shall be as vile as we, Nor much shall profit with their perfect powers To have lived a so much sweeter life than ours, When at the last, with all their bliss gone by, Like us those glorious creatures come to die, With far worse woe, far more rebellious strife Those mighty spirits drink the dregs of life.
Oh dreadful thought, if all our sires and we Are but foundations of a race to be,— Stones which one thrusts in earth, and builds thereon A write delight, a Parian Parthenon, And thither, long thereafter, youth and maid Seek with glad brows the alabaster shade. And in processions’ pomp together bent Still interchange their sweet words innocent,— Not caring that those mighty columns rest Each on the ruin of a human breast,— That to the shrine the victor’s chariot rolls Across the anguish of ten thousand souls! “Well was it that our fathers suffered thus,” I hear them say, “that all might end in us; Well was it here and there a bard should feel Pains premature and hurt that none could heal; These were their preludes, thus the race began; So hard a matter was the birth of Man.” And yet these too shall pass and fade and flee, And in their death shall be as vile as we, Nor much shall profit with their perfect powers To have lived a so much sweeter life than ours, When at the last, with all their bliss gone by, Like us those glorious creatures come to die, With far worse woe, far more rebellious strife Those mighty spirits drink the dregs of life.
In print by 1921 AD · modern
Recorded in a printed collection by this date; the original date of these words is still unknown.
Meaning not yet available
An individual explanation has not yet been added. We do not substitute a generic description for an interpretation of these particular words.
Begin with source-checked readings and explanations ↗Attribution & collection notes
- Author or tradition
- F. W. H. Myers (identity unresolved)
Attribution: unknown - Country attributed
- Not established
A country attribution does not establish the earliest origin. - Historical period
- In print by 1921 AD · modern
In print by 1921: recorded in My Commonplace Book (third English edition,1921). Collection publication is an upper bound for this wording, not its earliest origin, composition date or the author's lifetime.
An author lifetime, approximate period or collection date is not necessarily the date when these words were first written or spoken. - Recorded source
- My Commonplace Book (third English edition,1921) (1921 AD)
Page 316 · printed citation: F. W. H. Myers (The Implicit Promise of Immortality). · compiler notes excluded
A collection's publication date can be later than the words it records.