What dost thou here far from thy native place? What piercing influences of heaven have stirred Thy heart's last mansion all-corruptible to wake, To move, and in the sweets of wine and fire Sit tempting madness with unholy eyes? Begone, thou shuddering, pale anomaly! The dark presses without on yew and thorn; Stoops now the owl upon her lonely quest; The pomp runs high here, and our beauteous women Seek no cold witness -- O, let murder cry, Too shrill for human ear, only to God. Come not in power to wreak so wild a vengeance! Thou knowest not now the limit of man's heart; He is beyond thy knowledge. Gaze not then, Horror enthroned lit with insanest light! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY FOR AN ENEMY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET BRIGHTNESS AS A POIGNANT LIGHT by DAVID IGNATOW MY AIN COUNTREE by ALLAN CUNNINGHAM TO THE MEMORY OF MR. OLDHAM by JOHN DRYDEN LINES TO A MOVEMENT IN MOZART'S E-FLAT SYMPHONY by THOMAS HARDY |