Midsummer night, without a moon, but the stars In a serene bright multitude were there, Even the shyest ones, even the faint motes shining Low in the north under the Little Bear. When I have said "This tragic farce I play in Has neither dignity, delight nor end," The holy night draws all its stars around me -- I am ashamed, I have betrayed my Friend. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MORTAL JEALOUSY by PHILIP AYRES RUE DU BOIS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN MR. MERRY'S LAMENT FOR LONG TOM by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE LORD HAYES: SONG. ROSES by THOMAS CAMPION ON THE DRIVE by CHARLES BADGER CLARK JR. ON A CLOCK IN A MARKET-PLACE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |