My Love, I made a sacrifice last night. Upon a pyre, a withered rose-leaf bed, my old opinions, hopes, were humbly spread. While lying prone, bathed in a lustral light, with eyes half closed, I saw the radiance write the sanctification of my thoughts now dead, new-born, made holy in a path to tread, whose guardian heals the heart of every blight. Strange music broke the air of rebeldom to chasten me, immersed in mounting fire, appealing music in exordium to soothe the anguish on the burning pyre, triumphant now, as if some god had come to deftly pluck all strings of my soul's lyre. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A NEWPORT ROMANCE by FRANCIS BRET HARTE I DID THIS FOR THEE! WHAT HAST THOU DONE FOR ME? by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL UPON HIS PICTURE by THOMAS RANDOLPH THE BRIDES' TRAGEDY: ACT 2, SCENE 1 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 23 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A RHPASODY; WRITTEN AT THE LAKES IN WESTMORLAND by JOHN BROWN (1715-1766) |