(February 23, 1'21) At midnight when the moonlit cypress trees Have woven round his grave a magic shade, Still weeping the unfinished hymn he made, There moves fresh Maia like a morning breeze Blown over jonquil beds when warm rains cease. And stooping where her poet's head is laid, Selene weeps while all the tides are stayed And swaying seas are darkened into peace. But they who wake the meadows and the tides Have hearts too kind to bid him wake from sleep Who murmurs sometimes when his dreams are deep, Startling the Quiet Land where he abides, And charming still, sad-eyed Persephone With visions of the sunny earth and sea. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPIGRAM: A BURNT SHIP by JOHN DONNE A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 63 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 1: 3. WINTER by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE TITA'S TEARS; A FANTASY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PSALM 1. BEATUS VIR, QUI NON by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE RED COTTON NIGHT-CAP COUNTRY; OR, TURF AND TOWERS: PART 3 by ROBERT BROWNING |