A Shadow
I said unto myself,
If I were dead
What would befall these children?
What would be their fate,
Who now are looking up to me
For help and furtherance?
Their lives
I said,
Would be a volume
Wherein I have read
But the first chapters
And no longer see to read
The rest of their dear history
So full of beauty
And so full of dread.
Be comforted
The world is very old
And generations pass
As they have passed.
A troop of shadows
Moving with the sun
Thousands of times
Has the old tale been told;
The world belongs
To those who come the last
They will find hope and strength
As we have done.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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