The Watchers

We must be nobler for our dead, be sure, Than for the quick. We might their living eyes Deceive with gloss of seeming; but all lies Were vain to cheat a prescience spirit-pure. Our soul’s true worth and aim, however poor, They see who watch us from some deathless skies With glance death-quickened. That no sad surprise Sting them in seeing, be ours to secure. Living, our loved ones make us what they dream; Dead, if they see, they know us as we are. Henceforward we must be, not merely seem. Bitterer woe than death it were by far To fail their hopes who love us to redeem; Loss were thrice loss that thus their faith should mar.

Collection: 
English
Arlo Bates

More from Poet

  • “There is such power”

    From “Sonnets in Shadow” THERE is such power even in smallest things To bring the dear past back; a flower’s tint, A snatch of some old song, the fleeting glint Of sunbeams on the wave—each vivid brings The lost days up, as from the idle strings Of wind-harp sad a breeze evokes the hint...

  • On the Road to Chorrera

    Three horsemen galloped the dusty way While sun and moon were both in the sky; An old crone crouched in the cactus’ shade, And craved an alms as they rode by. A friendless hag she seemed to be, But the queen of a bandit crew was she. One horseman tossed her a scanty dole, A...

  • A Winter Twilight

    Pale beryl sky, with clouds Hued like dove’s wing, O’ershadowing The dying day, And whose edge half enshrouds The first fair evening star, Most crystalline by far Of all the stars that night enring, Half human in its ray,— What blessed, soothing sense of calm Comes...

  • On the Road to Chorrera

    Three horsemen galloped the dusty way While sun and moon were both in the sky; An old crone crouched in the cactus’ shade, And craved an alms as they rode by. A friendless hag she seemed to be, But the queen of a bandit crew was she. One horseman tossed her a scanty dole, A...

  • The Watchers

    We must be nobler for our dead, be sure, Than for the quick. We might their living eyes Deceive with gloss of seeming; but all lies Were vain to cheat a prescience spirit-pure. Our soul’s true worth and aim, however poor, They see who watch us from some deathless skies With glance death-...