LIKE a great bat's wing angled on the West The dead volcanoes, blue and silent, stand. Nothing could seem more finally at rest, Colour alone can change their mask: her hand From those stone lips, which once ensanguined night With shouting hell-fire, now allures a gleam Like rosy childhood's love, an amaranth-light. Darkness comes on her in this fabling dream. Now light your lanterns, every thorp below Those monsters in their calm of long ago, And strike your strings' cicada-tinglings: dame, Sing at your silkwork; yet, musicians, mark -- Your verse and motive through the dewy dark Uttered themselves even here when those still peaks hurled flame. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LULLABY by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE MAN-OF-WAR HAWK by HERMAN MELVILLE VERSES OCCASIONED BY THE SUDDEN DRYING UP..ST.PATRICK'S WELL by JONATHAN SWIFT TO THE ROYAL ACADEMY by WILLIAM BLAKE EVE'S SONG by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH NATURE AND ART by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |