MY mother bore me 'neath the streaming moon, And all the enchanted light is in my soul. I have no place amid the happy noon, I have no shadow there nor aureole. Ah, lonely whiteness in a clouded sky, You are alone, nor less alone am I; Ah, moon, that makest all the roses grey, The roses I behold are wan as they! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COSMOPOLITE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ODE: THE MEDITERRANEAN by GEORGE SANTAYANA BEFORE THE RAIN by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE DESERTED PLANTATION by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR DULCE ET DECORUM EST by WILFRED OWEN THE SUPLIANTS: IO. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS THE HIRED MAN by EVA K. ANGLESBURG |