NEITHER in passion nor in play, But dreamily, half unaware, We kissed as drowsy children may, Sliding to sleep from evening prayer. So brief, so calm, the passing touch That meant so little -- and so much. FOR memory sees the wondrous thing The moment stood too near to know. The fragile innocence of spring I thought had faded long ago, Our quiet lips found blossoming yet Like an October violet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LITTLE JESUS by FRANCIS THOMPSON THE FAIR THIEF by CHARLES WYNDHAM LET NO BIRD SING by VERNE TAYLOR BENEDICT COSMIC BLESSINGS by SISTER BENEDICTION THE CURFEW TOWER by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE PASSING OF WOODROW WILSON, PROPHET OF PEACE by VINCENT GODFREY BURNS A SOLILOQUY ON READING THE 5TH AND 8TH VERSES OF THE 37TH PSALM by JOHN BYROM |