Move on, light hands, so strongly, tenderly, Now with dropped calm and yearning undersong, Now swift and loud, tumultuously strong, And I in darkness, sitting near to thee, Shall only hear, and feel, but shall not see, One hour made passionately bright with dreams, Keen glimpses of life's splendor, dashing gleams Of what we would, and what we cannot be. Surely not painful ever, yet not glad, Shall such hours be to me, but blindly sweet, Sharp with all yearning and all fact at strife, Dreams that shine by with unremember'd feet, And tones that like far distance make this life Spectral and wonderful and strangely sad. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHANT OF THE VULTURES by EDWIN MARKHAM MACFLECKNOE; OR, A SATIRE UPON THE TRUE-BLUE-PROTESTANT POET by JOHN DRYDEN LOUIS XV by JOHN STERLING (1806-1844) THE CRISIS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE BOOK OF THE LETTER, SELECTION by ABRAHAM ABULAFIA TWELVE SONNETS: 1. THY SWEETNESS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |