Dim apprehension of a trust Comes over me this quiet hour, As though the silence were a flower, And this, its perfume, dark like dust. My individual self would cling Through fear, through pride, unto its fears: It strives to shut out what it hears, The founts of being murmuring. O! Need, whose hauntings terrorize; Whether my maiden ways would hide, Or lose and to that need subside, Life shrinks and instinct dreads surprise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY HEART IS HEAVY by SARA TEASDALE THE SEA LOVER by SARA TEASDALE AN INDIGNATION DINNER by JAMES DAVID CORROTHERS A FAREWELL TO AMERICA, TO MRS. S. W. by PHILLIS WHEATLEY SATIRE: 2 by AULUS PERSIUS FLACCUS VERSES IN A WATCH by WILLIAM CZAR BRADLEY ST. PAUL'S RENOVATED by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB |