Out of the night to my mountain porch they came, A thousand moths. Did He who made the toad Make these and give them to the starry road? Ardent, unstill, they circled round the flame -- These wonder-shapes that man can never tame -- Whirled like the first flakes of the winter snows; Tinted with amber, violet and rose Marked with hieroglyphs that have no name. Out of the summer dark they poured in flight, To vanish down the secret roads they keep: Unseen they go on their mysterious sweep. Who called them to this rush of mad delight? Do they go lost and aimless to the deep? Why this rich beauty wandering the night? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ABOVE AND WITHIN by DAVID IGNATOW DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 2. LOS CIGARILLOS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE POET'S BRIDAL DAY SONG by ALLAN CUNNINGHAM EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: BOMBER IN LONDON by RUDYARD KIPLING SIR GALAHAD by ALFRED TENNYSON I COME SINGING by JOSEPH AUSLANDER VERSES TO SOME FRIENDS RETURNING FROM THE SEA-SIDE by BERNARD BARTON |