The high song is over. Silent is the lute now.
They are crowned for ever and discrowned now.
Whether they triumphed or suffered they are mute now,
or at the most they are only a sound now.
The high song is over. There is none to complain now.
No heart for healing, and none to break now:
they have gone, and they will not come again now.
They are sleeping at last, and they will not wake now.
The high song is over. And we shall not mourn now.
There was a thing to say, and it is said now.
It is as though all these had been unborn now,
it is as through the world itself were dead now.
The high song is over. Even the echoes fail now;
winners and losers--they are only a theme now,
their victory and defeat a half-forgotten tale now;
and even the angels are only a dream now.
There is no need for blame, no cause for praise now.
Nothing to hide, to change or to discover.
They were men and women. They have gone their ways now,
as men and women must. The high song is over.
--Humbert Wolfe, in Requiem, 1927.
this book has a story. but doesn't everything.