'Tis dead night round about: horror doth creep And move on with the shades; stars nod and sleep, And through the dark air spin a fiery thread Such as doth gild the lazy glow-worm's bed. Yet, burn'st thou here, a full day; while I spend My rest in cares, and to the dark world lend These flames, as thou dost thine to me; I watch That hour, which must thy life and mine dispatch; But still thou dost out-go me, I can see Met in thy flames, all acts of piety; Thy light, is @3Charity@1; thy heat, is @3Zeal@1; And thy aspiring, active fires reveal @3Devotion@1 still on wing; then, thou dost weep Still as thou burn'st, and the warm droppings creep To measure out thy length, as if thou'dst know What stock, and how much time were left thee now; Nor dost thou spend one tear in vain, for still As thou dissolv'st to them, and they distil, They're stored up in the socket, where they lie, When all is spent, thy last, and sure supply, And such is true repentance, ev'ry breath We spend in sighs, is treasure after death; Only, one point escapes thee; that thy oil Is still out with thy flame, and so both fail; But whensoe'er I'm out, both shall be in, And where thou mad'st an end, there I'll begin. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLAYING JACKS IN BHAKTAPUR by KAREN SWENSON JOURNEY by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY SONNET: 10. TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY by JOHN MILTON SPRING SONG by JEAN ANTOINE DE BAIF REMEMBRANCE by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES |