As when at Mary's voice Elizabeth Felt in her womb the restlessness of feet That would outrun delaying birth, and greet Alike unseen the Conqueror of Death: So, at the hour of midnight wakes a breath That in the womb of darkness moves to meet The soul of Morning, and a silence sweet As incense tells of one that worshippeth. Yea, life forever in expectancy Stands tip-toe on the utmost brink of time, Hushing the past, and listening to hear (As poets the inevitable rhyme) A dream's fulfilment in the echoes clear That sing the present in futurity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEXTER GORDON: COPENHAGEN/AVERY FISHER HALL by KAREN SWENSON MORTAL COMBAT by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE INDIAN WOMAN'S DEATH-SONG by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS MEADOW-SAFFRON by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE ODE TO THE CONNECTICUT RIVER by JOSIAS LYNDON ARNOLD THE LAMENT: A BALLAD by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |