Thus piteously Love closed what he begat: The union of this ever-diverse pair! These two were rapid falcons in a snare, Condemned to do the flitting of the bat. Lovers beneath the singing sky of May, They wandered once; clear as the dew on flowers: But they fed not on the advancing hours: Their hearts held cravings for the buried day. Then each applied to each that fatal knife, Deep questioning, which probes to endless dole. Ah, what a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life! - In tragic hints here see what evermore Moves dark as yonder midnight ocean's force, Thundering like ramping hosts of warrior horse, To throw that faint thin line upon the shore! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON HIS BEING [OR, HAVING] ARRIVED AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-THREE by JOHN MILTON THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 2. THE WRECK OF RIVERMOUTH by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER ORNAMENTATIONS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN GRANDMOTHER'S GARDEN by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN LEEZIE LINDSAY by ROBERT BURNS |