I cannot sleep, the night is hot and empty, My thoughts leave nothing lovely in my heart, You love me, and I love you, life is passing, We are apart. The August moonlight vibrates with the voices Of insects and their passions frail and shrill -- Oh from what whips, oh from what secret scourgings All of earth's children bow before her will. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO HARRIET by GEORGE GORDON BYRON LOVE GIVEN OVER by ABRAHAM COWLEY O'SULLIVAN'S RETURN by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS SONNET TO A GUPPIE by DOROTHY DIEMER SONATA: 2. SCHERZO by JOHN ERSKINE IN HOSPITAL by JAMES ELROY FLECKER IDENTITY by HORTENSE KING FLEXNER AN EPISTLE TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF BURLINGTON by JOHN GAY |