Hearken, O dear, now strikes the hour we die; We, who in one strange kiss Have proved a dream the world's realities, Turned each from other's darkness with a sigh, Need heed no more of life, waste no more breath On any other journey, but of death. And yet: Oh, know we well How each of us must prove Love's infidel; Still out of ecstasy turn trembling back To earth's same empty track Of leaden day by day, and hour by hour, and be Of all things lovely the cold mortuary. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THERE IS NO NATURAL RELIGION (A) by WILLIAM BLAKE SHE HEARS THE STORM by THOMAS HARDY CEREMONIES FOR CHRISTMAS (1) by ROBERT HERRICK THE SHADES OF NIGHT by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN INSULTING BEAUTY by JOHN WILMOT |