Smother thy flickering light, the vigil's o'er. Hope, early wounded, of his wounds is dead. Many a night long he smiled, his drooping head Laid on thy breast, and that brave smile he wore Not yet from his unbreathing lips is fled. Enough: on mortal sweetness look no more, Pent in this charnel-house, fling wide the door And on the stars that killed him gaze instead. The world's too vast for hope. The unteachable sun Rises again and will reflood his sphere, Blotting with light what yesterday was done; But the unavailing truth, though dead, lives on, And in eternal night, unkindly clear, A cold moon gilds the waves of Acheron. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INTROSPECTIVE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI WE ARE SEVEN by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH FABLE: 16 by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT THE FOREST PINE by LAURENCE BINYON APRIL by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE SONNETS OF SEVEN CITIES: PHILADELPHIA by BERTON BRALEY ON TYING DAPHNE'S SHOE by J. STUART BRYAN ON SEEING MISS FONTENELLE IN A FAVOURITE CHARACTER by ROBERT BURNS |