Children of the Night

Contents:
Author: Edwin Robinson

The World

Some are the brothers of all humankind,
And own them, whatsoever their estate;
And some, for sorrow and self-scorn, are blind
With enmity for man’s unguarded fate.

For some there is a music all day long
Like flutes in Paradise, they are so glad;
And there is hell’s eternal under-song
Of curses and the cries of men gone mad.

Some say the Scheme with love stands luminous,
Some say ’t were better back to chaos hurled;
And so ’t is what we are that makes for us
The measure and the meaning of the world.

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Chicago: Edwin Robinson, "The World," Children of the Night, ed. Keil, Heinrich, 1822-1894 and trans. Seaton, R. C. in Children of the Night (New York: George E. Wood, 1850), Original Sources, accessed October 1, 2022, http://www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=LHR8KJYLS6ZRGHP.

MLA: Robinson, Edwin. "The World." Children of the Night, edited by Keil, Heinrich, 1822-1894, and translated by Seaton, R. C., in Children of the Night, New York, George E. Wood, 1850, Original Sources. 1 Oct. 2022. http://www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=LHR8KJYLS6ZRGHP.

Harvard: Robinson, E, 'The World' in Children of the Night, ed. and trans. . cited in 1850, Children of the Night, George E. Wood, New York. Original Sources, retrieved 1 October 2022, from http://www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=LHR8KJYLS6ZRGHP.