Author Robert Laurence Binyon I am here, and you; The sun blesses us through Leaves made of light. The air is in your hair; You hold a flower. O worlds, that roll through night, O Time, O terrible year, Where surges of fury and fear Rave, to us you gave This island--hour. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments