I cannot sleep, the night is hot and empty, My thoughts leave nothing lovely in my heart, You love me, and I love you, life is passing, We are apart. The August moonlight vibrates with the voices Of insects and their passions frail and shrill -- Oh from what whips, oh from what secret scourgings All of earth's children bow before her will. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COUNTESS CATHLEEN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE FALL OF RICHMOND [APRIL, 1865] by HERMAN MELVILLE PSALM 47 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ADDRESS TO EDINBURGH by ROBERT BURNS PASSING THROUGH THE CARRON IRON WORKS by ROBERT BURNS THROUGH THE MEUSE-ARGONNE TODAY by ROBERT CARY SPRING IN SOUTHERN PINES by MARY PARKER COLVIN |