WILD wild wind, wilt thou never cease thy sighing? Dark dark night, wilt thou never wear away? Cold cold church, in thy death sleep lying, The Lent is past, thy Passion here, but not thine Easter-day. Peace, faint heart, though the night be dark and sighing; Rest, fair corpse, where thy Lord himself hath lain. Weep, dear Lord, above thy bride low lying; Thy tears shall wake her frozen limbs to life and health again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DREAM SONG: 2 by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR DICKENS IN CAMP by FRANCIS BRET HARTE TO HIS MISTRESS by ROBERT HERRICK LOVE SONGS TO JOANNES by MINA LOY THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 13 by OMAR KHAYYAM THE GRANDMOTHER'S APOLOGY by ALFRED TENNYSON ON THE PROJECTED KENDAL AND WINDERMERE RAILWAY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |