ALOFT among the gallery gods, Whose peering faces crowd the night With muttered breath and mocking nods, There waits the Keeper of the Light. From out the pit the roll and crash Of music comes, and through the dark The spot pours down a blinding flash Upon its momentary mark. It is Pierrette that flutters there Alone, until there comes Pierrot;— Comes hissing, laughter and despair, And darkness blots them as they go. They tried, O God, how hard they tried; Though loveliness was theirs, and grace, The Keeper of the Light denied A moment more to their embrace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |