Who hunts so late 'neath evening skies, A smouldering love-brand in his eyes? His locks outshame the black of night, Its stars are duller than his sight Who hunts so late, so dark. A drooping mantle shrouds his form, To shield him from the winter's storm? Or is there something at his side, That, with himself, he strives to hide, Who hunts so late, so dark? He hath such promise, silver sweet, Such silken hands, such fiery feet, That, where his look has charmed the prey, His swift-winged passion forces way, Who hunts so late, so dark. Sure no one underneath the moon Can whisper to so soft a tune: The hours would flit from dusk to dawn Lighter than dews upon the lawn With him, so late, so dark. But, should there break a day of need, Those hands will try no valorous deed: No help is in that sable crest, Nor manhood in that hollow breast That sighed so late, so dark. O maiden! of the salt waves make Thy sinless shroud, for God's dear sake; Or to the flame commit thy bloom; Or lock thee, living, in the tomb So desolate and dark, - Before thou list one stolen word Of him who lures thee like a bird. He wanders with the Devil's bait, For human souls he lies in wait, Who hunts so late, so dark. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO BEACHEY, 1912 by CARL SANDBURG THE VALSE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR HARVEST SONG by LUDWIG HENRICH CHRISTOPH HOLTY ON THE HOME GUARDS; WHO PERISHED ... LEXINGTON, MISSOURI by HERMAN MELVILLE MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 6 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO EDWARD FITZGERALD by ALFRED TENNYSON OUR LEFT' by FRANCIS ORRERY TICKNOR |