Ave! 'Tis the maiden moon To the westward wending, There to sink, alas, too soon With her star attending. Doth he linger o'er her dreams While her silvern taper teems? Sleep their dusk-divided beams One in beauty blending? Vale! She hath drunken deep Of a draught forbidden! More than memory can weep Hath the darkness chidden. Sleepless Sorrow from the night Drives her forth, a phantom white, Withering beneath the blight Of a wound heart hidden. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FAIRIES by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM AN INDIGNATION DINNER by JAMES DAVID CORROTHERS LEARNING TO READ by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER NOREMBEGA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 8 by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE DOOR-BELL by CHARLOTTE BECKER ON SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS by WILLIAM BLAKE |