Tuesday Poem

"...he not busy being born
Is busy dying.
    –Bob Dylan, It's Alright Ma

We Are the Music Makers
A. W. E. O'Shaughnessy

We are the music makers,
..And we are the dreamers of dreams,

Wandering by lone sea-breakers,

  And sitting by desolate streams;

World-losers and world-forsakers,

  On whom the pale moon gleams;

Yet we are the movers and shakers

  Of the world forever, it seems.
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With wonderful deathless ditties

We build up the world's great cities,

  And out of a fabulous story

  We fashion an empire's glory:

One man with a dream, at pleasure,

  Shall go forth and conquer a crown;

And three with a new song's measure

  Can trample a kingdom down.
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We in the ages lying

  In the buried past of the earth,

Built Nineveh with our sighing,

  And Babel itself with our mirth;

And o'erthrew them with prophesying

  To the old of the new world's worth;

For each age is a dream that is dying,

  Or one that is coming to birth.

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