ME my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh: Thy woes are birds of passage, transitory: Thy spirit, circled with a living glory, In summer still a summer joy resumeth. Alone my hopeless melancholy gloometh, Like a lone cypress, through the twilight hoary, From an old garden where no flower bloometh, One cypress on an island promontory. But yet my lonely spirit follows thine, As round the rolling earth night follows day: But yet thy lights on my horizon shine Into my night, when thou art far away. I am so dark, alas! and thou so bright, When we two meet there's never perfect light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MIDSUMMER NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE L.E.L.'S LAST QUESTION by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING OUT OF THE OLD HOUSE, NANCY by WILLIAM MCKENDREE CARLETON THE DESERTED PLANTATION by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR PRE-EXISTENCE by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE AN ODE IN IMITATION OF ALCAEUS by WILLIAM JONES |