I saw moonlight falling On a narrow bed, With its touch recalling Beauty to the dead. Like the bright sands heaping In an ancient glass; None to mark the keeping Of the hours that pass. Like some perfumed, olden Wine drops on the floor; Gone who spilled the golden Wine -- to come no more. Like a garment holding (Golden threads encrust) Winding and enfolding Bits of bone and dust. Like a wild bird singing, But with none to hear; Echoes falling, ringing On no mortal ear. Like a fragrant flower, As its petals shed, At the midnight hour Falling on the dead. @3I saw moonlight falling On a narrow bed, Lingering, recalling Beauty to the dead.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SYMPATHETIC PORTRAIT OF A CHILD by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS BOOKER T. WASHINGTON by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE QUANGLE WANGLE'S HAT by EDWARD LEAR MODERN LOVE: 34 by GEORGE MEREDITH BRIDAL BALLAD by EDGAR ALLAN POE ARCADIA: SESTINA by PHILIP SIDNEY ON AN INTAGLIO HEAD OF MINERVA (2) by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE HERO OF VIMY; AN INCIDENT OF THE GREAT WAR by BRENT DOW ALLINSON |