The heroic stars spending themselves,
Coining their very flesh into bullets for the lost battle,
They must burn out at length like used candles;
And Mother Night will weep in her triumph, taking home her heroes.
There is the stuff for an epic poem--
This magnificent raid at the heart of darkness, this lost battle--
We don't know enough, we'll never know.
Oh happy Homer, taking the stars and the Gods for granted.

Poet: Robinson Jeffers
Poem: The Epic Stars
Poem of the Day: May 11 2013

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, The Epic Stars, has received 4 comments. Click here to read them, and perhaps post a comment of your own.