I MUST not think of thee; and, tired yet strong, I shun the thought that lurks in all delight -- The thought of thee -- and in the blue Heaven's height, And in the sweetest passage of a song. Oh, just beyond the fairest thoughts that throng This breast, the thought of thee waits, hidden yet bright; But it must never, never come in sight; I must stop short of thee the whole day long. But when sleep comes to close each difficult day, When night gives pause to the long watch I keep, And all my bonds I needs must loose apart, Must doff my will as raiment laid away, -- With the first dream that comes with the first sleep I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CALL TO THE COLORS by ARTHUR GUITERMAN THE CHILDREN'S HOUR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE FISHER'S BOY by HENRY DAVID THOREAU THE FIRST-FOOT by ALEXANDER ANDERSON MAY DAY by ADELAIDE A. ANDREWS BRUCE: JAMES OF DOUGLAS by JOHN BARBOUR OCTOER WOODS by EMMA INGOLD BOST THREE EPISTLES TO G. LLOYD ON A PASSAGE FROM HOMER'S ILIAD: 1 by JOHN BYROM UPON YE SIGHT OF MY ABORTIVE BIRTH YE 31TH: OF DECEMBER 1657 by MARY CAREY |