365bet娱乐

What is it that thrills and, troubles, wakens and benumbs?
Why are hopes unfurled again with every Spring that comes?
Why do marching pulses beat the heart鈥檚 defiant drums?
Unfulfilment cannot cloud the spirits that aspire,
Cannot quench the radiance of vitality, whose fire
On a sea of hope throws the search-light of desire鈥�

Enervating argument and proverb pessimist
Cannot close the motion of an infinite pursuit,
Cannot hush life鈥檚 clarion or make the bugles mute.

Batteries of hope are silenced; chafing ardours halt;
Dreams in broken regiments are driven from the field.
Squadrons of belief disordered turn from the assault,
One thin line of thought alone can stand and never yield.

Thought, pervading chaos, is the constant that survives:
Thought, the core of being, the main current of the whole;
Impulse, partly manifest in clumsy human lives,
Witness to the challenge of a purpose and a goal.

We who plunge and blunder in the dark morass of tears,
Are but foam ephemeral on pools of consciousness.
Action鈥搈atter鈥揳ll the changing pageant that appears
Hints at the revelation we are diligent to guess;
Knowing how the greater may be hidden by the less.

Bubbles on the surface are the things that man has made,
And puffs of air the deeds that he has done;
Death is but the flickering dominion of a shade
And life a waning moment in the sun.

Accident or chance can only mar
Our Life鈥檚 outer garment. We are hedged in what we do,
But nought can setthe bounds to what we are.