No, no, I did not love you, -- gladly Scorched though I was by such a flame; And yet explain the strength that sadly Still lingers for me in your name. In front of me I saw you kneeling, Like one who waited for a crown; And round your youthful head was wheeling Death's silent shade to strike you down. You went, -- but not to triumph going; You went to death. Oh empty night! My Angel, may you stay not knowing, Not seeing my despairing plight. But if white suns from Paradises Shine on the pathway in the spring, But if the meadow bird arises Among the spiked sheaves, on the wing, Oh this is you, I know it, trying To converse with me from the grave; I see the shot-scarred hillock lying Above the Dniester's bloody wave. Days of renown and love forgetting, Forgetting days of youth gone by, And crafty ways, and soul's dark fretting, Yet still your face, your fame unsetting I shall remember till I die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...QUATRAIN: THE IRON AGE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH DO THOU LOVE, TOO! by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 44. ALLAH-AL-RAKIB by EDWIN ARNOLD THERE IS NO LOVING AFTER DEATH by ASCLEPIADES OF SAMOS OTHER SPRINGS by ROSEMARY BASEFLUG SILVIO'S COMPLAINT: A SONG, TO A FINE SCOTCH TUNE by APHRA BEHN JOB. THE INSCRUTABLE MYSTERY by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE STEALING OF THE MARE; AN ARABIC EPIC OF THE TENTH CENTURY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |