PENDENT from my chandelier, 'Neath the gaslight's blaze, Hang a host of relics queer, Born of other days. Odd conceits and trifles fair, Marvels made of naught, Gimcracks fashioned out of air, Fairy fingers wrought. As I look with half-closed eyes Through the smoke-dimmed air, Round them dreamy memories Swarm and cluster there. Sweet familiar faces rise, Figures come and go; Winning lips and laughing eyes, Voices soft and low. Half-forgotten words once more, Like a distant strain, Vaguely on my spirit pour Sweetness tinged with pain. Joys may turn to smoke, and life Waste to ashes gray, -- These dear forms I know its strife Will not filch away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE END OF THE WORLD by GORDON BOTTOMLEY THE VALLEY OF UNREST (2) by EDGAR ALLAN POE INDIGNATION; AN ODE by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE I SHALL BE SATISFIED by MARTIN BEHEMB THE PLAYERS by FRANCIS LAWRENCE BICKLEY ZILLEBEKE BROOK by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |