What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning; but the rain Is full of ghosts to-night, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply; And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain, For unremembered lads that not again Will turn to me at midnight with a cry. Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree, Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, Yet knows its boughs more silent than before: I cannot say what loves have come and gone; I only know that summer sang in me A little while, that in me sings no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUNSET FROM OMAHA HOTEL WINDOW by CARL SANDBURG BY THE STATUE OF KING CHARLES AT CHARING CROSS by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 11. TO THE COUNTRY GENTLEMEN OF ENGLAND by MARK AKENSIDE A POTION by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON LINES WRITTEN ON VISITING A SCENE IN ARGYLESHIRE by THOMAS CAMPBELL I WATCHED THE HEAVENS by CAROLINE CLIVE |