In my last hour, sit close to me And read some tale of far-off lands -- So may the poignant moments be Blurred by the slipping of your hands Among the pages of the book And firelight brushed across your face, That I may have one tender look To take with me from time and space; And let some distant bugle call Throb bravely through the waning light, So I shall scarcely know at all When the dim day drops into night, Nor when your voice, a slow release From laughter and forgotten tears, Breaks and becomes a lost bright piece Among the scattered shards of years. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FISHERMAN IN SONGKHLA by KAREN SWENSON THE REALM OF FANCY by JOHN KEATS THE CARD-DEALER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI WHEN YOU ARE OLD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TO CHILDREN: 1. FAIRY SONG by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A CHRISTMAS THOUGHT by MRS. FRANK A. BRECK WRITTEN ON RETURNING TO THE P. OF I. ON 10 JANUARY 1827 by EMILY JANE BRONTE |