ONE night in my room, still and beamless, With will and with thought in eclipse, I rested in sleep that was dreamless; When softly there fell on my lips A touch, as of lips that were pressing Mine own with the message of bliss -- A sudden, soft, fleeting caressing, A breath like a maiden's first kiss. I woke -- and the scoffer may doubt me -- I peered in surprise through the gloom; But nothing and none were about me, And I was alone in my room. Perhaps 't was the wind that caressed me And touched me with dew-laden breath; Or, maybe, close-sweeping, there passed me The low-winging Angel of Death. Some sceptic may choose to disdain it, Or one feign to read it aright; Or wisdom may seek to explain it -- This mystical kiss in the night. But rather let fancy thus clear it: That, thinking of me here alone, The miles were made naught, and, in spirit, Thy lips, love, were laid on mine own. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAST LINES OF THOMAS INGOLDSBY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM MY LOVE'S GUARDIAN ANGEL by WILLIAM BARNES THE NEW CHURCH ORGAN by WILLIAM MCKENDREE CARLETON A BIRD'S ANGER by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES BURIAL OF THE MINNISINK by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TAKE YOUR CHOICE: AS WALT MASON WOULD DO IT by BERTON BRALEY |