'Two Worlds'

A fiery young world, in far voids of sky,
     Called to an old world growing dark and chill:
"Now that you hear the hour you must die,
     Tell me what mighty memories haunt you still!"

Then from the old sad world this answer fell:
     "Vast peoples rose and vanished where I swing....
But all my poor tired soul remembers well
     Are the great songs my poets used to sing!"

  	-- Edgar Fawcett