Out of the clean, wide, wind-swept spaces Where sounds cross over from song to song, And thought reaches thought and interlaces, I found you aloof from the calling throng. And I called you over the tumult of living, Over the boundaries of sense and ties, And my soul exults without misgiving When out of the spaces your soul replies. What of the clangor of vain endeavor? What of the routine of life for a space? In every silence your voice forever; In every darkness the light of your face. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ARABIAN SHAWL by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE ENGLISH GRAVEYARD IN MALACCA by KAREN SWENSON IF by EDWARD JAMES MORTIMER COLLINS WHAT THE THRUSH SAID by JOHN KEATS AUTUMN TINTS by MATHILDE BLIND AN ODD CONCEIT by NICHOLAS BRETON THE POET AND THE BIRD; A FABLE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |