WHAT'S that, which, ere I spake, was gone: So joyful and intense a spark That, whilst o'erhead the wonder shone, The day, before but dull, grew dark? I do not know; but this I know, That, had the splendour lived a year, The truth that I some heavenly show Did see, could not be now more clear. This know I too: might mortal breath Express the passion then inspired, Evil would die a natural death, And nothing transient be desired; And error from the soul would pass, And leave the senses pure and strong As sunbeams. But the best, alas, Has neither memory nor tongue! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PICTURES OF MEMORY by ALICE CARY DIRGE IN WOODS by GEORGE MEREDITH LEGENDARY LIGHTS by ALTER ABELSON INDIA by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD TO MY FRIEND MR. THOMAS FLATMAN, ON THE PUBLISHING OF THESE HIS POEMS by FRANCIS BARNARD (D. 1698) |