Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE BRIDGE BY THE TAY, by THEODOR FONTANE First Line: When shall we three meet again?' Last Line: "what the hand of man hath wrought!" Subject(s): Bridges | ||||||||
(When shall me three meet again?--MacBETH) "When shall we three meet again?" "The dam of the bridge at seven attain!" "By the pier in the middle. I'll put out amain The flames." "I too." "I'll come from the north." "And I from the south." "From the sea I'll soar forth." "Ha, that will be a merry-go-round! The bridge must sink into the ground." "And with the train what shall we do That crosses the bridge at seven?" "That too." "That must go too!" "A bauble, a naught, What the hand of man hath wrought!" The bridgekeeper's house that stands in the north-- All windows to the south look forth, And the inmates there without peace or rest Are gazing southward with anxious zest. They gaze and wait a light to spy That over the water "I'm coming!" should cry, "I'm coming--night and storm are vain-- I, from Edinburg the train!" And the bridgekeeper says: "I see a gleam On the other shore. That's it, I deem. Now, mother, away with bad dreams, for, see, Our Johnnie is coming!--He'll want his tree. And what is left of candles, light As if it were on Christmas night! Twice we shall have our Christmas cheer-- In eleven minutes he must be bere." It is the train, with the gale it vies And panting by the south tower flies. "There's the bridge still," says Johnnie. "But that's all right: We'll make it surely out of spite! A solid boiler and double steam Should win in such a fight, 'twould seem! Let it rave and rage and run at its bent-- We'll put it down: this element! And our bridge is our pride. I must laugh always When I think back of the olden days, And all the trouble and misery That with the old boat used to be. And many cheerful Christmas nights I spent at the ferryman's house--the lights From our windows I'd watch and count them o'er, And could not reach the other shore." The bridgekeeper's house that stands in the north-- All windows to the south look forth, And the inmates there without peace or rest Are gazing southward with anxious zest: More furious grew the wind's wild games, And now, as if the sky poured flames, Comes shooting down a radiance bright O'er the water below.--Then all is night. "When shall we three meet again?" "At midnight the top of the mountain attain!" "By the alder-stem on the high moorland plain!" "I'll come." "And I too." "And the number I'll tell." "And I the names." "I the torture right well." "Whoo! "Like splinters the woodwork crashed in two." "A bauble--a naught. What the hand of man hath wrought!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BRIDGE FOR THE LIVING by PHILIP LARKIN GRANITE AND STEEL by MARIANNE MOORE WATERLILIES AND JAPANESE BRIDGE by ALICIA SUSKIN OSTRIKER THE BRIDGE: PROEM. TO BROOKLYN BRIDGE by HAROLD HART CRANE AT DARIEN BRIDGE by JAMES DICKEY THE BRIDGE BUILDER by WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE ON STURMINSTER FOOT-BRIDGE by THOMAS HARDY THE BRIDGE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |
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