THEY stood on the bridge at midnight, In a park not far from the town; They stood on the bridge at midnight, Because they didn't sit down. The moon rose o'er the city, Behind the dark church spire; The moon rose o'er the city And kept on rising higher. How often, oh, how often! They whispered words so soft; How often, oh, how often; How often, oh, how oft! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEALS IN PENOBSCOT BAY by KAREN SWENSON FUCHSIA HEDGES IN CONNACHT by PADRAIC COLUM SANCTUARY by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY EROTION by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE IMAGES: 2 by RICHARD ALDINGTON MINDEN HOUSE by WILLIAM BARNES SARAH THREENEEDLES (BOSTON, 1698) by KATHARINE LEE BATES |