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STRANGER; TO WILL ROTHENSTEIN, by             Poem Explanation     Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Her face was like sad things: was like the lights
Last Line: With us, her passing image: but herself %far over the dark hills and the long sea



Her face was like sad things: was like the lights

Of a great city, seen from far off fields,
Her face was like sad things: was like the lights
Or seen from sea: sad things, as are the fires
Of a great city, seen from far off fields,
Lit in a land of furnaces by night:
Or seen from sea: sad things, as are the fires
Sad things, as are the reaches of a stream
Flowing beneath a golden moon alone.
Lit in a land of furnaces by night:
Sad things, as are the reaches of a stream
And her clear voice, full of remembrances,
Came like faint music down the distant air.
Flowing beneath a golden moon alone.
As though she had a spirit of dead joy
And her clear voice, full of remembrances,
About her, looked the sorrow of her ways:
Came like faint music down the distant air.
As though she had a spirit of dead joy
If light there be, the dark hills are to climb
About her, looked the sorrow of her ways:
First: and if calm, far over the long sea.
If light there be, the dark hills are to climb
Fallen from all the world apart she seemed,
First: and if calm, far over the long sea.
Into a silence and a memory.
Fallen from all the world apart she seemed,
What had the thin hands done, that now they strained
Together in such passion? And those eyes,
Into a silence and a memory.
What had the thin hands done, that now they strained
What saw they long ago, that now they dreamed
Along the busy streets, blind but to dreams?
Together in such passion? And those eyes,
Her white lips mocked the world, and all therein:
What saw they long ago, that now they dreamed
She had known more than this; she wanted not
Along the busy streets, blind but to dreams?
Her white lips mocked the world, and all therein:
This, who had known the past so great a thing.
She had known more than this; she wanted not
Moving about our ways, herself she moved
This, who had known the past so great a thing.
In things done, years remembered, places gone.
Lonely, amid the living crowds, as dead,
Moving about our ways, herself she moved
She walked with wonderful and sad regard:
In things done, years remembered, places gone.
Lonely, amid the living crowds, as dead,
With us, her passing image: but herself
She walked with wonderful and sad regard:
Far over the dark hills and the long sea.
-1889
With us, her passing image: but herself
Far over the dark hills and the long sea.








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