The Imaginative Conservative is an on-line journal for those who seek the True, the Good and the Beautiful. We hope you will join us in The Imaginative Conservative community. Will you help us remain a refreshing oasis in the increasingly contentious arena of modern discourse? Please consider donating now. The Imaginative Conservative applies the principle of appreciation to the discussion of culture and politics-we approach dialogue with magnanimity rather than with mere civility. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sightīlind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,Īnd you, my father, there on the sad height,Ĭurse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Wild men, who caught and sang the sun in flight,Īnd learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Though wise men at their end know dark is right,īecause their words had forked no lightning they Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Old age should burn and rave at close of day
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