IF I were very sure That all was over betwixt you and me, -- That, while this endless absence I endure With but one mood, one dream, one misery Of waiting, you were happier to be free, -- Then I might find again In cloud and stream and all the winds that blow, Yea, even in the faces of my fellowmen, The old companionship; and I might know Once more the pulse of action, ere I go. But now I cannot rest, While this one pleading, querulous tone without Breaks in and mars the music in my breast. I open the closed door -- lo! all about, What seem your lingering footprints; then I doubt. Waken me from this sleep! Strike fearless, let the naked truth-edge gleam! For while the beautiful old past I keep, I am a phantom, and all mortals seem But phantoms, and my life fades as a dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FIGHTING RACE [FEBRUARY 16, 1898] by JOSEPH IGNATIUS CONSTANTINE CLARKE TO SHAKESPEARE by DAVID HARTLEY COLERIDGE IN AFTER DAYS; RONDEAU by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON BRONX, 1818 by JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE ANTHEM FOR DOOMED YOUTH by WILFRED OWEN CRY WOE, WOE, AND LET THE GOOD PREVAIL, FR. AGAMEMNON by AESCHYLUS |