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Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Poor Icarus

For other versions of this work, see Poor Icarus.


POOR Icarus!—to soar so high,
Then fall! For you 't was vain to try
By cunning craft, on faithless wings,
To capture empyrean things,
That still to men the Fates deny!

Yet, even knowing Death so nigh,
Had you reluctant been to fly
Beyond earth's sure, safe harborings,—
Poor Icarus?

I think not so. All, all must die!
But you the pathways of the sky
Found first, and tasted heavenly springs,
Unfettered as the lark that sings,
And knew strange raptures,—though we sigh:
"Poor Icarus!"