God is a creed outworn, Ill-wrought from a mirage fair, And life is an image pale That faces a sunless morn. — Kenneth Rand Copy Share Image
And should men name me dead, I beg ye, say "Nay, he but wearied here, and went away. — Kenneth Rand Copy Share Image
“I wrought me a lyric of fire and fear, And called on the world to heed — Till strong men blenched at my haggard… — Kenneth Rand Copy Share Image
The beauty that men seek is half a dream-- Where'er we wander, yet it lies afar; It touches with its wand a setting star,… — Kenneth Rand Copy Share Image
Oh, the morrow of pain and dole Is naught while the sunlight lingers. — Kenneth Rand Copy Share Image
Let me leap naked through life's testing flame, And bear to lose, and yet endure to win. — Kenneth Rand Copy Share Image
Yet earth has never child she may not slay, Nor sea a lover that she cannot kill. — Kenneth Rand Copy Share Image
God is a creed outworn, Ill-wrought from a mirage fair, And life is an image pale That faces a sunless morn. — Kenneth Rand Copy Share Image
