I TAKE your poems in my hand and read them beside the candle; The poems are finished: the candle is low: dawn not yet come. With sore eyes by the guttering candle still I sit in the dark, Listening to waves that, driven by the wind, strike the prow of the ship. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARSH MUSIC by KENNETH SLADE ALLING RECIPROCAL KINDNESS THE PRIMARY LAW OF NATURE by VINCENT BOURNE AN EPISTLE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) ASOLANDO: POETICS by ROBERT BROWNING THE BURIAL OF LOVE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT OCTOBER (1) by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN HARPS HUNG UP IN BABYLON by ARTHUR WILLIS COLTON LOVE TRIUMPHANT, OR NATURE WILL PREVAIL: PROLOGUE by JOHN DRYDEN |