THE lake comes throbbing in with voice of pain Across these flats, athwart the sunset's glow, I see her face, I know her voice again, Her lips, her breath, O God, as long ago. To live the sweet past over I would fain, As lives the day in the red sunset's fire, That all these wild, wan marshlands now would stain, With the dawn's memories, loves and flushed desire. I call her back across the vanished years, Nor vain -- a white-armed phantom fills her place; Its eyes the wind-blown sunset fires, its tears This rain of spray that blows about my face. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK by SARA TEASDALE HE FELL AMONG THIEVES by HENRY JOHN NEWBOLT SPRING MORNING by MAVIS CLARE BARNETT THE ANCRE AT HAMEL: AFTERWARDS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LOST PLEAID by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD A SABBATH MORNING AT SEA by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |