Poem

As in the Midst of Battle there is Room

February 11, 2007 - 8:00am Submitted by Karl DeBisschop
by George Santayana

As in the midst of battle there is room
For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth;
As gossips whisper of a trinket's worth
Spied by the death-bed's flickering candle-gloom;
As in the crevices of Cæsar's tomb
The sweet herbs flourish on a little earth:
So in this great disaster of our birth
We can be happy, and forget our doom.

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