IN my pale garden yesternight The statues glimmered ghostly-white, The brooding trees that haunted me Flapped dusky wings despairingly. Both air and sky death-heavy were, But oh my heart was heavier, For life (I said) is useless grief, And death an undesired relief. Then the wind rushed up Clad in darkness and hail, Whirling the rain As a rent white veil, But my heart, my heart, Was glad of the gale. The roar of the wind Grew hoarser and higher, Till the thunder spoke And its voice was fire. But my heart was freed From the storm of desire. My lilies passion-sweet are dead, Love's purple, royal roses shed, But heart and garden are besprent With flowers of patience and content. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: CARL HAMBLIN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DANSE RUSSE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS QUATRAIN: FROM EASTERN SOURCES: 3 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH JOHN MAYNARD by HORATIO ALGER JR. A LULLABY by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA THE ELDER'S WARNING; A LAY OF THE CONVOCATION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |