From silver lamps a thin blue smoke is streaming, And golden vases 'mid the feast are gleaming; Now sound the lutes in unison, Within the gates our lives are one. We'll think not of the parting ways As long as dawn delays. When in tall trees the dying moonbeams quiver: When floods of fire efface the Silver River, Then comes the hour when I must seek Lo-Yang beyond the furthest peak. But the warm twilight round us twain Will never rise again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE WORK by ALEKSANDR SERGEYEVICH PUSHKIN TRAVEL by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON OUR BROTHER'S KEEPER by W. H. ANDERSON EPITAPH ON THE SECRETARY TO THE MUSES by JANE BARKER |