She thought that creeping back to spinsterhood Was like, in daylight, creeping back to bed Between the chilly sheets no longer good, And pulling up the quilts around one's head, To lie and stare the roses off the wall Or will to sleep with brain too wide awake, When every tingling nerve could still recall The pulse of action and the burning ache Of hate and love; while bone-chilled body tried To make a warmth where comfort used to be When one slept dreamless. What strange voice had cried Awake her heart to false dawn? Silently She waited now with senses wracked and numb Until the blessed warmth of peace should come. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOVER MOURNS FOR THE LOSS OF LOVE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE DAYS GONE BY by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE MASK OF ANARCHY; WRITTEN ON OCCASION OF MASSACRE AT MANCHESTER by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY ARMSTRONG'S GOOD NIGHT by THOMAS ARMSTRONG SATISFIED by HESTER A. BENEDICT |