AT noon of night, and at the night's pale end, Such things have chanced to me As one, by day, would scarcely tell a friend For fear of mockery. Shadows, you say, mirages of the brain! I know not, faith, not I. Is it more strange the dead should walk again Than that the quick should die? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EVENING WIND by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE LAST WORD OF A BLUEBIRD; AS TOLD TO A CHILD by ROBERT FROST VIRGILS GNAT: DEDICATORY SONNET by EDMUND SPENSER INSCRIPTIONS: 8 by MARK AKENSIDE LILIES: 18. A PICTURE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |