| Edwin Arlington Robinson (1869–1935). Collected Poems. 1921. |
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| VIII. Avon’s Harvest, Etc. |
| 8. Recalled |
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| LONG after there were none of them alive | |
| About the place—where there is now no place | |
| But a walled hole where fruitless vines embrace | |
| Their parent skeletons that yet survive | |
| In evil thorns—none of us could arrive | 5 |
| At a more cogent answer to their ways | |
| Than one old Isaac in his latter days | |
| Had humor or compassion to contrive. | |
| |
| I mentioned them, and Isaac shook his head: | |
| “The Power that you call yours and I call mine | 10 |
| Extinguished in the last of them a line | |
| That Satan would have disinherited. | |
| When we are done with all but the Divine, | |
| We die.” And there was no more to be said. | |
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