IN the dim watches of the midmost night, A ghost confronts him, standing by his bed, A lonesome ghost who walks uncomforted, Pale child of Memory and dead Delight, No longer fair or pleasant in his sight. With dusky hair upon her shoulders shed, And cypress leaves for garland on her head, As patient as the moonlight and as white, She stands beside him, and puts forth her hand To lead him backward into Love's lost Land -- Sad Land which shadows people, and where wait Memory, her sire, and dead Delight, his mate -- And standing there among the shadowy band, He learns how Love mocks him who loves too late. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OCTAVES: 12 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE FEMALE CONVICT by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON THE FLITCH OF BACON: MY OLD COMPLAINT (ITS CAUSE AND CURE) by WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH SUNSET IN THE DEVIL'S GLEN: COUNTY WICKLOW by EDMUND JOHN ARMSTRONG TO DR. PRIESTLEY. DEC. 29, 1792 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD PSALM 56 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE SORDELLO: BOOK 3 by ROBERT BROWNING THE WANDERER: PROLOGUE. PART 2 by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |