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Poetry: Failure

We are much bound to them that do succeed;
But, in a more pathetic sense, are bound
To such as fail. They all our loss expound;
They comfort us for work that will not speed,
And life--itself a failure. Aye, his deed,
Sweetest in story, who the dusk profound
Of Hades flooded with entrancing sound,
Music's own tears, was failure. Doth it read
Therefore the worse? Ah no! So much to dare,
He fronts the regnant Darkness on its throne.--
So much to do; impetuous even there,
He pours out love's disconsolate sweet moan--
He wins; but few for that his deed recall;
Its power is in the look which costs him all.

- Jean Ingelow
Indexing:

Posts from This Journal by “poetry” Tag

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    - Dylan Thomas 'Find meat on bones that soon have none, And drink in the two milked crags, The merriest marrow and the dregs Before the…

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  • Poem: If I should die

    - Emily Dickinson If I should die, And you should live, And time should gurgle on, And morn should beam, And noon should burn, As it has usual…

Basically, everyone remembers a fail over a win. Isn't that the truth?