THY face is whitened with remembered woe; For thou alone, pale satellite, didst see, Amid the shadows of Gethsemane, The mingled cup of sacrifice o'erflow; Nor hadst the power of utterance to show The wasting wound of silent sympathy, Till sudden tides, obedient to thee, Sobbed, desolate in weltering anguish, low. The holy night returneth year by year; And, while the mystic vapors from thy rim Distil the dews, as from the Victim there The red drops trickled in the twilight dim, The ocean's changeless threnody we hear, And gaze upon thee as thou didst on Him. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAUCER; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 13. ENVOI, 1919 by EZRA POUND VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1876 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI GOD'S DETERMINATIONS: THE PREFACE by EDWARD TAYLOR |