Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

STRANGER; TO WILL ROTHENSTEIN, by             Poem Explanation     Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Her face was like sad things: was like the lights
Last Line: With us, her passing image: but herself %far over the dark hills and the long sea


Her face was like sad things: was like the lights


Of a great city, seen from far off fields,
Or seen from sea: sad things, as are the fires
Her face was like sad things: was like the lights
Lit in a land of furnaces by night:
Of a great city, seen from far off fields,
Or seen from sea: sad things, as are the fires
Sad things, as are the reaches of a stream
Lit in a land of furnaces by night:
Flowing beneath a golden moon alone.
And her clear voice, full of remembrances,
Sad things, as are the reaches of a stream
Came like faint music down the distant air.
Flowing beneath a golden moon alone.
As though she had a spirit of dead joy
And her clear voice, full of remembrances,
About her, looked the sorrow of her ways:
Came like faint music down the distant air.
If light there be, the dark hills are to climb
As though she had a spirit of dead joy
First: and if calm, far over the long sea.
About her, looked the sorrow of her ways:
If light there be, the dark hills are to climb
Fallen from all the world apart she seemed,
First: and if calm, far over the long sea.
Into a silence and a memory.
What had the thin hands done, that now they strained
Fallen from all the world apart she seemed,
Together in such passion? And those eyes,
Into a silence and a memory.
What saw they long ago, that now they dreamed
What had the thin hands done, that now they strained
Along the busy streets, blind but to dreams?
Together in such passion? And those eyes,
Her white lips mocked the world, and all therein:
What saw they long ago, that now they dreamed
She had known more than this; she wanted not
Along the busy streets, blind but to dreams?
This, who had known the past so great a thing.
Her white lips mocked the world, and all therein:
She had known more than this; she wanted not
Moving about our ways, herself she moved
This, who had known the past so great a thing.
In things done, years remembered, places gone.
Lonely, amid the living crowds, as dead,
Moving about our ways, herself she moved
In things done, years remembered, places gone.
She walked with wonderful and sad regard:
Lonely, amid the living crowds, as dead,
With us, her passing image: but herself
She walked with wonderful and sad regard:
Far over the dark hills and the long sea.
-1889
With us, her passing image: but herself

Far over the dark hills and the long sea.







Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net