There is a haunted island in the sea: I have sat in a house woven of leaves, at midnight, and heard the old-folk chant to the ancient dead by the low flame, and the spirits hovered around us and the children stirred, on the mats, as they slept in the shadows. And my own dead walked with me on that island, walking in dreams, and spoke with the voice of dreams, speaking the language of that ancient land. I have heard the voice of the @3ringoringo@1 bird in the chill of night, as the wind rattled the palm fronds: the @3ringoringo@1, bird of the Great Darkness, come from the Night to the still streets of the village, come on the northern wind, the bird of death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FELDMESTEN OR MEASURING THE GRAVES by ALTER ABELSON THE STEAM-ENGINE: CANTO 6. ON THE CORK PACKET, 1837 by T. BAKER THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET PSALM 127 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE GIACINTA by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE DIVAGATOR by GAMALIEL BRADFORD MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE LORD HAYES: SONG IN FORM OF A DIALOGUE by THOMAS CAMPION |