ONWARD glimmering came the evening, Wilder tossed the flood, And I sat on the strand, regarding The snowy dance of the billows, And soon my bosom swell'd like the sea; A deep home-sickness yearningly seized me For thee, thou darling form, Who everywhere surround'st me, And everywhere call'st me, Everywhere, everywhere, In the moan of the wind, in the roar of the ocean, In the sigh within my own breast. With brittle reed I wrote on the sand: "Agnes, I love thee!" But wicked billows soon pour'd themselves Over the blissful confession, Effacing it all. Ah too fragile reed, ah fast-scatter'd sand, Ah fugitive billows, I'll trust you no more! The heavens grow darker, my heart grows wilder And with vigorous hand from the forests of Norway Tear I the highest fir-tree, And plunge it deep In Etna's glowing abyss, and thereafter With fire-imbued giant-pen I write on the dark veil of heaven: "Agnes, I love thee!" Every night gleams thenceforward On high that eternal fiery writing, And all generations of farthest descendants Read gladly the heavenly sentence: "Agnes, I love thee!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHARACTER OF A GOOD PARSON by GEOFFREY CHAUCER THE HIPPOPOTAMUS by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 4. REVEILLE by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN TO A STEAM ROLLER by MARIANNE MOORE MOLLY PITCHER [JUNE 28, 1778] by KATE BROWNLEE SHERWOOD ON EDWARD WEBBE, ENGLISH GUNNER by WILLIAM ROSE BENET BREATH UPON A GLASS by MARY HOPE CABANISS |