No more for us the little sighing. No more the winds at twilight trouble us. Lo the fair dead! No more do I burn. No more for us the fluttering of wings That whirred in the air above us. Lo the fair dead! No more desire flayeth me, No more for us the trembling At the meeting of hands. Lo the fair dead! No more for us the wine of the lips, No more for us the knowledge. Lo the fair dead! No more the torrent, No more for us the meeting-place (Lo the fair dead!) Tintagoel. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. BENJAMIN PANTIER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS STEVENSON'S BIRTHDAY by KATHERINE WISE MILLER PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 49. AL-MAJID by EDWIN ARNOLD EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 20. EVER PRESENT by PHILIP AYRES |