She sits beside a grey wall; sits, and sees The strange, hot burning of the stars dissolve In flaming horsemen riding on the breeze; Like circling gulls her toneless dreams revolve Round toneless worlds; ghosts; and a dead man's hand That beckons; ghosts; and a creeping mist that fanned Sharp sprays in her blurring eyes; a dead man's face Stares out of the mad procession ... Winds of grace Blowing the torches black, deaden the sound Of the iron hoof-beats ... Only a grotesque mound.. She sits beside a grey wall, sits, and sees.. One gift that the gods have laid on her barren knees. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWILIGHT COMES by HAYDEN CARRUTH MY HEART IS HEAVY by SARA TEASDALE ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL, FR. ROSALIND [ROSALYNDE] by THOMAS LODGE THE BEGGAR MAID [AND KING COPHETUA] by ALFRED TENNYSON ON SEEING MISS FONTENELLE IN A FAVOURITE CHARACTER by ROBERT BURNS BOOKS & READING by JOHN JAY CHAPMAN THE PEASANT POET by JOHN CLARE |