Alms to the highwayman in pursuit! Evil eye to the luring eye! Blade against blade with the avid swordsman! -My soul is not in a state of grace! - I am the fool of Pamplona, Afraid of the Moon's laughter, Hypocritical, in black crepe . . . Horror! is everything, then, beneath a candle snuffer? I hear a noise like a rattle . . . It is the evil hour which calls me. In the pit of nights falls: one knell . . . two knells. I have counted more than fourteen hours . . . Each hour a tear. You are weeping, My heart! . . . Keep singing, go on -- Don't count. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MILKMAID'S SONG by SYDNEY THOMPSON DOBELL THE MARCH OF XERXES by LUIGI ALAMANNI A CHRISTMAS HYMN by CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY by BERNARD BARTON THE SILKWORM by VINCENT BOURNE TO A MISSIONARY, WHO ATTENDED ... MEETING OF BIBLE SOCIETY by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD TO AN ENEMY by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |