Smother thy flickering light, the vigil's o'er. Hope, early wounded, of his wounds is dead. Many a night long he smiled, his drooping head Laid on thy breast, and that brave smile he wore Not yet from his unbreathing lips is fled. Enough: on mortal sweetness look no more, Pent in this charnel-house, fling wide the door And on the stars that killed him gaze instead. The world's too vast for hope. The unteachable sun Rises again and will reflood his sphere, Blotting with light what yesterday was done; But the unavailing truth, though dead, lives on, And in eternal night, unkindly clear, A cold moon gilds the waves of Acheron. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN EXPLANATION by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE INDIA WHARF by SARA TEASDALE L.E.L.'S LAST QUESTION by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING CLOUDY JUNE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE SHEPHERD'S PIPE: DEDICATION TO EDWARD, LORD ZOUCH by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |