I THOUGHT, beloved, to have brought to you A gift of quietness and ease and peace, Cooling your brow as with the mystic dew Dropping from twilight trees. Homeward I go not yet; the darkness grows; Not mine the voice to still with peace divine: From the first fount the stream of quiet flows Through other hearts than mine. Yet of my night I give to you the stars, And of my sorrow here the sweetest gains, And out of hell, beyond its iron bars, My scorn of all its pains. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANOTHER SONG WITHOUT WORDS by PAUL VERLAINE THOUGHTS ON THE COMMANDMENTS by GEORGE AUGUSTUS BAKER JR. THE CAPTAIN; AFTER READING HENLEY'S INVICTUS by DOROTHEA DAY THE PHANTOM HORSEWOMAN by THOMAS HARDY A PRAIRIE SUNSET by WALT WHITMAN AUNT CAROLINE by ANNYE LEWIS ALLISON |