It is not life's bright hope or hell's dark terrors, Or earthly benison for my poor heart, Or spirit prescient of the mind's dumb errors That bid me shun the easy, bloodless part. Nor is it that my eyes shall soon forget The flaming breath of sunset in the west, Or that my lips in frigid firmness set Shall soon be careless of thy lips at best. Dark are the dim, remembered paths of earth Where once our feet in laughing measures sped, Dark are the days that echo my heart's dearth As I stand halting 'mongst the living dead. I should not quail at heaven's beckoning moan, Only that going I shall leave thee lone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES TO WILLIAM LINLEY WHILE HE SANG A SONG TO PURCELL'S MUSIC by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SHADOWS: 2 by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES THE BODING DREAMS by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES NEW ENGLAND'S GROWTH by WILLIAM BRADFORD FOURTH BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 15 by THOMAS CAMPION TO THE TENTH LEGION, NEW YORK STATE VOLUNTEERS, 1862 by RUTH NATALIE CROMWELL |