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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE SOUL-BELL, by PATRICK AUGUSTINE SHEEHAN First Line: Night, and its noon and a far to-morrow Last Line: Ismene, dead! | |||
Night, and its noon and a far to-morrow, Grey with the fears Of a future that leans to a past to borrow Its meed of tears. White are the drifts outside; and hither, Around her bed, White comes the face, that asks, oh, whither Fares forth my dead? White is the taper clasped in her fingers! Her lips are white; Recall Thy judgment, O God! that lingers This weary night! Hark! from the ivy across the river Moaneth the bell; Death! fling thy arrow back to its quiver; There! it is well! Still as the marble and cold she seemeth, Looking afar; Round the wide orb of her future gleameth Her life's lone star. Frail, how the garments of life still hold her From the far flight Through the trail of the stars, whose eyes enfold her Beyond the night. Hark! how again the soul-bell splinters The granite gloom, Thick with the murk of a thousand winters, And a halting doom. Come, O ye Spirits, that float and hover Above the soul! Is there no gleam of bliss to cover Grey death and dole? There, once again like a bolt from heaven (Why always three?) Thunders the soul-bell till earth is riven 'Twixt you and me. A flash of crimson; in some far bourn A star hath bled; Earth and the sky have met to mourn Ismene, dead! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INDEPENDENCE DAY, 1956, A FAIRY TALE by JAMES GALVIN GOD SAVE THE NATION! by THEODORE TILTON SINCE THOU ART GONE by HENRY VAUGHAN FALSE FRIEND by GHALIB IBN RIBAH AL-HAJJAM |
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