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Siegfried Sassoon - The Heritage
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Cry out on Time that he may take away   
Your cold philosophies that give no hint   
Of spirit-quickened flesh; fall down and pray   
That Death come never with a face of flint:   
Death is our heritage; with Life we share
The sunlight that must own his darkening hour:   
Within his very presence yet we dare   
To gather gladness like a fading flower.   
   
For even as this, our joy not long may live   
Perfect; and most in change the heart can trace
The miracle of life and human things:   
All we have held to destiny we give;   
Dawn glimmers on the soul-forsaken face;   
Not we, but others, hear the bird that sings.
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