... The rest Of our life must be a palimpsest The old writing written there the best. In the parchment hoary Lies a golden story, As 'mid secret feathers of a dove, As 'mid moonbeams shifted through a cloud. Let us write it over, O my lover, For the far time to discover, As 'mid secret feathers of a dove, As 'mid moonbeams shifted through a cloud. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEA GODS: 2 by HILDA DOOLITTLE A WINTER WISH by ROBERT HINCKLEY MESSINGER FLOWERS WITHOUT FRUIT by JOHN HENRY NEWMAN TREES AND WAVES by AL-ISRA'ILI TRANSFERABLE MERIT by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE MELANCHOLIE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |