THREE sisters, Charlotte, Emily and Anne, Afar in Yorkshire wolds they live together; Names that I keep like any sacristan; The human registry of souls as pure As sky in hermit waters on a moor, Those liquid islands of dark seas of heather; Voices that reach my solitude from theirs; Hands that I kiss a thousand miles away, And send a thousand greetings of my own- But these, alas! only the west wind bears. Nay, they have vanish'd. Hills and vales are lone Where Earth once knew them. What is now to say ? Three strangers dead - 'tis little to endure: Great crowds of strangers vanish every day. Yet will I see those gravestones if I may. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOUNTAIN WHIPPOORWILL (A GEORGIA ROMANCE) by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET FINIS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ON CARPACCIO'S PICTURE: THE DREAM OF ST. URSALA; SONNET by AMY LOWELL STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 3. WASHINGTON, D.C. by CLARENCE MAJOR SURFACES AND MASKS; 6 by CLARENCE MAJOR SONG BY THE WINDOW BEFORE BED by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |