UPON a cloud among the stars we stood. The angel raised his hand and looked and said, "Which world, of all yon starry myriad, Shall we make wing to?" The still solitude Became a harp whereon his voice and mood Made spheral music round his haloed head. I spake -- for then I had not long been dead -- "Let me look round upon the vasts, and brood A moment on these orbs ere I decide . . . What is yon lower star that beauteous shines And with soft splendor now incarnadines Our wings? -- There would I go and there abide." He smiled as one who some child's thought divines: "That is the world where yesternight you died." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HASTY PUDDING by JOEL BARLOW WHEN THE GREAT GRAY SHIPS COME IN [AUGUST 20, 1898] by GUY WETMORE CARRYL BEAVER BROOK by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE KEARSARGE (1894) by JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE I AM THE PEOPLE, THE MOB by CARL SANDBURG THE HYMNARY: 361. ST. JOHN BAPTIST by BEDE |