I have lived as in a slumber, I have moved as in a sleep, Among ghosts I could not number, Between walls I could not leap. Lifted arms could never smite me, Joy itself could not delight me, Tears I had, but could not weep. For mine empty heart was scorning What my full heart would have said, And I dressed the world in mourning Though I had no dear one dead. Losing all, I did not feel it, Saw the wound, nor cared to heal it, For my bosom never bled. Through my soul, its slumber broken, Then the light of nature streamed, All the sense of what was spoken, All the being of what seemed: And I heard the heart's sweet singing And the shout of battle ringing, And I lived what I had dreamed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DEATH OF A METAPHYSICIAN by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE TWO APRIL MORNINGS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 19. AL-FATTA'H by EDWIN ARNOLD SOLILOQUIES OF A SMALL-TOWN TAXI-DRIVER: ON THE EMOTIONS by EDGAR BARRATT |